


Spell of Forthcoming’s Spent

by WolfwithSnakeEyes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Before Fire, Bitten Werewolves, Born Werewolves, Human Pack Members, M/M, Male Slash, Mates, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Time Travel, banshee - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-01-23 19:29:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1576919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfwithSnakeEyes/pseuds/WolfwithSnakeEyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter wanted a chance to do it all again. When he receives a gift, what will he do with this chance.</p><p>...Peter jerked awake instantly. His breath was heavy and stacked together, his lungs constricting like they had in his dream. He had heard of this. His grandmother possessed this gift. The gift of foresight: a gift that presents itself when the possessor is at a crossroads, where one decision can change the course of one’s life. Each time the gift shows you the course you are on and what life you shall live. You get to choose to live that life or change it in that split second. His grandmother said she was only afforded two crossroads in her life, and only changed it once...</p><p>And in that moment he took a different path.</p><p>...Peter stood there for a moment when he saw something else. A little boy was walking down the street. He couldn't have been more than seven or so, and he was twitching as he walked determinedly forward. Peter knew this boy, but from where?</p><p>And in that moment when he moved toward the seven year old instead of Hannah to introduce himself, he felt his life shift...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Impending Regression

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or the characters.

**Peter felt his lungs squeeze in his chest.** It was a difficult feat to have any werewolf running so hard and so fast that they actually felt the fatigue sinking into their muscles. The creature was pounding on behind him, and Peter could feel himself beginning to slow. He knew that there would be no one to save him; he knew he was the last one left.

The fire had taken his family. He had killed Laura. Erica had been murdered by the Alpha pack. Derek had killed Boyd—by force though it didn’t matter. Allison had been run through. Twin one had been killed, and twin two had been found in a ditch three months later. One of the three new betas had been blown up by a group of hunters. Lydia went to go find Jackson and they had heard news a year later that they had been killed in a territory dispute. Scott and Kira were killed by the outliers of the Argent family, protecting their pack. Derek became the alpha again. Malia was killed in a trap set by her adoptive father after he found out what she was and what she had done. Isaac and the two other betas were burned in a fire. Stiles, John (the sheriff), and Melissa broke from the pack. As far as Peter knows they are alive and well and known as the hunters of hunters. They go from family to family eliminating the ones who no longer follow the code. It was just Derek and him for the longest time before the beast behind him tore his nephew to pieces.

Peter wished he could do it all again.                                                               

 **Peter jerked awake instantly.** His breath was heavy and stacked together, his lungs constricting like they had in his dream. He had heard of this. His grandmother possessed this gift. The gift of foresight: a gift that presents itself when the possessor is at a crossroads, where one decision can change the course of one’s life. Each time the gift shows you the course you are on and what life you shall live. You get to choose to live that life or change it in that split second. His grandmother said she was only afforded two crossroads in her life, and only changed it once.

The downside to this gift is that it changes you. You essentially grow as a person, becoming what you would after being made to live through your life.

Peter couldn’t say that he liked himself anymore. Not after seeing what he became. Not after how he was thinking now. There was an edge to his mind now, cunning and meticulous. He still retained his sanity, his new mind and old merging. A godsend really. It was a very thin line.

Peter groaned and hefted himself out of bed. He felt as if he had to reassess his life; to see where he stood in it: How old was he? Was his family still alive? If so how old were the kids? Did he still live on the Hale property, or is it those three years that he moved out and met his wife before moving back in?

 Looking around he knew immediately that he was still in residence at the Hale house. But it wasn’t the room he shared with his wife. So it was before he met her. Did he still even want to meet her?

He picked up his running gear from the dresser. Before the fire he always went for a morning run. Changing into his gear he picked up his running shoes and headed for the kitchen.

As he opened the door to his room, and stepped out into the hall. His room was one of four on the first floor. Him, Derek, and Amber with Annalese were currently holding up in three of the rooms. Derek’s room was down the hall closest to the back door. The boy was prone to go run in the woods at a drop of a hat. And Amber and Annalese were down at the opposite side closer to the kitchen and playroom. The fourth was Robert’s office, which was directly across from his. No one went into his office. Not even Talia on a good day.

Robert was a writer who worked from home and it better be a damn emergency or someone dying, if you interrupted him. Robert was a ghost writer, stepping in and finishing novels for authors, and was renowned as the best. He was bitten when he was seven by a rogue alpha who liked to collect kids. It wasn’t the Hales who had downed the feral beast—as it was on the opposite coast—and Robert’s parents hadn’t a clue as to how to handle a rabid seven year old with claws after the pack that had liberated him moved on. They ended up finding the Hales after months of finding and interviewing packs for Robert. Then they gave them custody. Robert only ever visited his parents twice after that. Once when he was ten, and again when he was sixteen. He mated to Talia right after the second visit.

From the moment Talia and Robert met it was instantaneous… They hated each other to their very core. It wasn’t until both had gotten older that they realized exactly what those intense feelings meant. They still clashed and butted heads, but they certainly loved each other with a quiet, stanch support that was infallible to anything that tried to break them down. It truly was a swan princess story… or at least that was what Cora called it when she heard the story for the first time.

Peter looked away from the office. The door was closed, meaning Robert was already hard at work and Peter was late getting up. But honestly, who could blame him after the night… life he just lived through. Peter walked down to the kitchen, hopping he missed the morning rush. He walked through the swinging door and into the country kitchen. The long table, with mismatched chairs, were only half full with the kids eating before camp, and Ken who was in charge of getting everyone to the bus stop. Everyone except Paul, Laura and Amber, who ranked old enough not to go to camp

Ken, Peter’s brother in law, was sitting in the middle wiping Martha and Maegan’s hands. The twins were born two years ago to Ken and Kyra, and probably the most adorable girls Peter had ever seen, with short strawberry blonde hair, and brown-black eyes. They were born human, taking after Ken, and Peter was honestly happy for that. They were enough of a handful without supernatural abilities.

Aiden, Ken and Kyra’s oldest at age five, was sitting across from his father; happily munching on his pancakes with much more syrup then should taste good. Aiden took after his mother, and was a born a wolf. He had flaming red hair that no one in the family knew where it came from. They assumed it was from Ken’s blonde roots. His blue eyes were toned down, an unexpressive. He hardly showed any type of emotion, and proved him to be an unusual child. He didn’t talk, and he hated to be touched. It worried the pack more often then not.

Peter turned his head to see the rest of the table then. He found Annalese sitting a few chairs down at the corner of the table in a high chair. The one year old giggling as her mother, Amber (seventeen) fed her bits of fruit. Amber had had her when she was a little over sixteen, after getting pregnant from a rogue beta were-coyote on one full moon night. The were-coyote was killed soon after and Amber was left with the results of Annalese, though that hadn’t changed how much she loved her little girl. Annalese ended up being born a werewolf even with her mother being human.

When she started to have complications, Danny-Mae her mother brought her here in hopes of support that they both lacked. They were cousins, and their family had been hunted down and killed a few years back.  

The teenagers were already gone, leaving a pouting Cora sitting beside Amber, so Peter reached around the girl and grabbed some toast.

“Where are Paul, Laura, and Derek?” Peter asked.

“Derek went out for a run to brood because Paul told him he couldn’t go with him and Laura to the basketball courts.” Cora growled out.

“Hmm,” Peter sighed. “Well I’m gonna go for a run too.” He looked to Ken. “I have the next two weeks or so off right?”

“Yeah,” Ken grinned to Peter, “I got you covered.”

Usually during the summer time it was Peter’s job to watch the kids, but Ken had a few weeks off meaning that Peter was off the hook so to speak. But honestly  maybe it was time for Paul and Laura to take over. He’d have to talk to Talia about it, but having a job would help his case.

What was the job he got in his maybe future? Oh right he was an IT specialist. He didn’t want to work for the same company again though. That company from what he remembered was overbearing and grated on his wolf’s nerves.

Peter smiled to everyone at the table and headed for the door, slipping on his shoes and eating his toast. He started out on the reserve, taking the path that loops around to the pond, and past the caves, and then comes out in to the middle of town. As his feet beat against the pavement he stopped short as he saw her.

It was Hannah, the woman he married in his not life. This was the morning he met her. This was his crossroad. Peter stood there for a moment when he saw something else. A little boy was walking down the street. He couldn’t have been more than seven or so, and he was twitching as he walked determinably forward. Peter knew this boy… but from where?

And in that moment when he moved toward the seven year old instead of Hannah to introduce himself, he felt his life shift.

 **When the Sheriff opened the door,** frantic and wide eyed, Peter just smiled at him. Stiles was propped up on his hip and a bag was hanging from his other hand.

“Oh god Stiles,” the sheriff sagged.

“I found him two blocks away going to get some soup. He said he had to take care of his Daddy, because he was sick.” Peter smiled at the man.

“I’m so sorry, I turned around and he was gone, and I…”

“Hey it’s okay.” Peter smiled. “I’m Peter by the way, and I have seven nieces and nephews and a couple of cousins, I get it.”

John looked him over for a minute, Stiles still in his arms, thumb in mouth and head on his shoulder. “I’m John. Would you like to come in?”

“John Stilinski, yes we’ve met a few times. You know Ken Hale?” Peter smiled stepping in through the door.

“Ken Hale, yeah, he’s the EMS Chief.” The Sheriff said almost absent mindedly as he watched Peter and his son. Peter just nodded, and headed for the kitchen.

“Why don’t you sit down, I promised Stiles that I would help make the soup because he isn’t allowed to touch the stove.” Peter glanced back at him as Stiles grinned a toothless grin up at him as he placed Stiles on the counter.

“Daddy, Petah helped me get the soup. And he helped me get some crackers. And he listened when I told him that chicken and rice is better than chicken and noodle. And that saltine crackers suck and Ritz are d’ bomb.” Stiles threw his hand up in a fist pump from his place on the counter.

“Peter, Stiles, my name is Peter.” Peter said at the same time John said, “We don’t say sucks Stiles.” They looked at each other as Stiles giggled at them.

After a minute John made to get up as Peter shifted through his pots in the bottom cabinet. “You really don’t have to…”

“Sit down,” Peter said, “I made Stiles a promise.” He turned to the boy who was now holding a wooden spoon. “Didn’t I Stiles?”

“Yes, yes you did. And we don’t break promises Daddy.” Stiles wagged his finger at the man. “And you should be in bed. You’re sick daddy, and the doctor said bed rest. That means you rest in a bed.”

“You heard him,” Peter laughed.

John just grumbled from the table. Another minute and the soup was stemming, and being poured into the bowl that Peter had gotten out as he was moseying around the kitchen finding the pans. Peter grabbed the spoon that Stiles was handing out to him. He let it slide into the soup as he hefted Stiles up around his middle and set him on the floor. Peter walked over to, and around the table to put the bowl in front of the Sheriff.

That was when he smelt it; the spike in arousal. Peter honed his ears, and heard the hitch in John’s heartbeat. Peter smiled. This was it. This was his second path. He walked back over to the counter and grabbed the crackers. He sniffed then, trying to see what exactly was in the kitchen. He was looking for something to make Stiles. He smelt apples. Then there was bread, bread was good. Now something to put on the bread. There was strawberry jelly, and peanut butter. That would work. He turned with the crackers in hand and walked back around the table to place the crackers beside the bowl.

“Stiles why don’t you go get that stuffie you told me about while I make you a sandwich and apple slices.” Peter offered.

“Oh, yes,” Stiles grinned and ran out the door.

Peter went back over to the refrigerator and grabbed the jelly. He picked up the bread as he walked back over to his station he had set up as well as the apple and peanut butter.

“You must think I’m a terrible parent.” Peter heard John say. “And who can blame you, even I think I’m a terrible father.”

 “No,” Peter turned a plate with apple slices and a sandwich in hand. “No I think your overwhelmed, tired, and a sick father.” He placed the plate on the table as he took a seat right across from John.

John looked so sullen. “Its just… Its just that I have no idea what to do. Claudia died when he was four and he is such an energetic little boy. He doesn’t stop for even a second. He was even diagnosed with ADHD. And the doctor said that they try not to diagnose children so young, but that he has it so bad… It takes everything I have to keep up with him and the last six babysitters quit after only two hours with him. But he’s such a good boy.” John glanced up at Peter.

Peter just smiled at him, “I’m sure it doesn’t help that he is ridiculously intelligent for a seven year old.”

John gave him an inquisitive look.

Peter gestured for him to eat his soup. “Stiles regaled me with a lecture on the distinct difference between the male and female form.”

“Oh, no,” John looked mortified, “He didn’t. Tell me he didn’t. Where did he even learn about that? I mean its normal for little kids to know the difference, the bare basics, but if he actually lectured you on it that means he researched it.”

“He said he learned it from a book at the hospital when Ms. McCall had to bring him and his bestest friend Scott to check something.” Peter informed him.

“Great,” John groaned. “The kid is not safe around any type of books or information. He told me how to fix the lawn mower the other day after he read the manual.”

Peter actually laughed at that.

“Petah! Petah! Look it’s the stuffie I told you about.” Stiles rushed in with a stuffed black wolf with blue eyes. He ran right to Peter and held out the toy. “His name is Dirk, and I love him with all my heart. Daddy took me to the fair and… and there was this boy and he won it and then gave it to me after because all I won was a rubber duck and I didn’t like it. So he traded me.”

Peter smiled taking the stuffed wolf. “That’s great Stiles. Why don’t you eat your sandwich?”

“What kind is it?” Stiles asked.

“Peanut butter and jelly,” Peter offers.

“Oh,” Stiles took a bite out of the sandwich. “It’s good. Do you know how to make jelly?”

“No I can’t say that I do,” Peter offers as John sighs.

“It’s made with juice, sugar and pectin. Pectin is a brown powder from citrus fruit, and it gels things. That’s why it’s called jelly. Get it?” Stiles grinned around a bit of half chewed food.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Peter admonishes. “And no I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Stiles I’m sure that Peter doesn’t want to hear about how jelly is made.” John says.

“No it’s alright,” Peter looks at John. “I really don’t mind. It’s refreshing to come across such a brilliant mind.”

It was true. Peter remembered Stiles from the future. Such a remarkable boy, and so resourceful. It’s hard to imagine that, that Stiles actually had a brain to mouth filter. And seven year old Stiles showed exactly how amazing his mind is. Seven years old and reading medical books… and for the most part understanding it. His IQ must be off the charts.

“See dad, Peter likes to hear me talk.” Stiles says as if it was an achievement.

“Only when you don’t have your mouth full,” Peter says gently.

“Right because that is how you be polite,” Stiles gazes over at his dad, “Right?”

“Yeah Stiles, eating and then talking is what is polite.” John assures.

“And not with your elbows on the table, and using your napkin,” Stiles supplies. Peter just laughed again.

It was later when Peter was walking down the street that he made up his mind.

He could smell the arousal on John, and honestly the man wasn’t unattractive. He wouldn’t mind cultivating a mind like Stiles’, and being a parent to him. There also was no chance that they would be in the fire, and that he would lose them, he’d make sure of it. He would also have two of the most dangerous men he had ever met on his side.

Yes, it seemed it was time to go a courting.


	2. Only Ever Minding to the Overactive Anklebiter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Opportunity for opportunity's sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or the characters.
> 
> I was so amazed by the amount of comments I got in one day (this has never happened before) that I wrote, edited and posted the second chapter the very same day. Not even my most popular story on FF.net got this much attention first run out. It's always been a slow build. 
> 
> I'm just so happy.

**Peter straightened his tie.** Today was his first day for his new job. He smiled just thinking about it. He decided to go the same route he went in approaching Hannah. But unlike getting a job at an IT firm that he didn’t like to get her attention. He got a job at a small firm that handled city tech. And to top it off he was assigned to the Sheriff station. He couldn’t help the smirk taking over his features.

He was also off the hook for watching the pups; the job now falling to Paul and Laura.

Talia had made a huff about it when he said he wanted to get a job, stating that he had a responsibility. He used the same line he had the first time around… or was it in his other timeline? This was confusing, even for him.  

“Talia I think I found someone,” Peter said.

“You mean a mate?” Talia’s focus sharpened from where she was reading a book on the settee.

“I certainly hope so,” Peter smiled at her. It was smarmy and smug, and stretched his features.

“My baby has found someone? Peter! You need to tell Mama these things when they happen.” Grandma Kay asked, rushing into the room, apron on and smeared with cookie dough. Kyra the first was an unusual woman. She was darker in color then even Talia, and he hair was never neatly done. She always had it tied up in a loose messy bun, or hanging wildly about her face with leaves and sticks going every which way. Peter didn’t think she ever brushed it, he was actually sure of it. Her blue-green eyes always sparkled with mischief and she always seemed a bit crazed… on second thought, maybe she is where he got it from. Certainly food for thought.

“Mother, no, I just think maybe,” Peter tried.

Talia laughed at Peter’s retraction.

“Tell us about him,” Grandma Kay demanded as Danny-Mae entered and took a seat beside Talia. “Everything, we want to know everything.”

“I-uh-he…” Peter sighed. It’s not like this wasn’t the first time this happened. “His name is John Stilinski. He has a seven year old boy that is hyperactive, intelligent, and amazing. When I met John it felt like… like an instant connection. And the moment I met Stiles his son, I fell in love with him. They just feel like a puzzle that I fit into.”

“John Stilinski the Sheriff?” Ken asked. Peter looked over his shoulder at the man who was leaning against the door frame, his wife settled against his side.

“Yes, that’s him,” Peter offered.

Ken nodded, “He’s a good man.” He chuckled, “Though his little boy is quite the handful.”

“Stiles is just spirited,” Peter huffs.

“And isn’t that just like a new parent to defend his pup.” Grandma Kay cooed. “I’m sure they’re both lovely. You need to bring them over for dinner.”

“I haven’t even started dating him yet.” Peter said.

“Only a matter of time,” Danny-Mae rebuked.

Peter shook his head. Just thinking of his family’s reaction to new members coming in was exasperating. Though he had a feeling that they will like John a lot more then they like Hannah. It seemed like he would click better with them. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He wanted to make a good impression, and showing up late on the job was not the way to do it.

 **Peter spun on his chair.** His head would whip around look at his screen. He had been at this job for over three days… and it was boring. He could honestly work from home with his new handy-dandy firm laptop, only ever coming to the station when needed to fix a technical problem, rather than just glitches in the system.

But if he did that he’d get stuck with kid duty. And if he was going to be stuck with kid duty then there was only one child he wanted to spend time with.

The problem is that he hadn’t been able to run into John again other than the day he started his job when he had to sign papers about confidentiality. They had chatted… flirted for about a minute before John received a call.

“Petah?”

Peter whirled around. How the hell had the kid snuck up on him? “Stiles,” he breathed out. “It’s Peter Stiles. What are you doing here?”

“I said that Petah, and Daddy was on the phone and I’m not supposed to being an interruptsing him. So I was shooting the cameras and then I found you.” Stiles grinned holding up a toy gun that looked like a pistol and had an orange dart ready for fire. That explained why the kid was so good at handling that gun in the future if he practiced like this now.

“Interrupting him would be bad.” Peter nodded his head, “He is very busy.”

“But I’m hungry Petah. He was sposed to take me to get something to eat.” Stiles grumbled as he held his stomach.

Peter smiled at him. “Well why don’t we fix that.” Peter stepped up and hefted Stiles into his arms. “Have you grown since I saw you last? You sure are getting heavy.”

Stiles giggled, “No, no one grows that fast Petah.”

“Maybe you ate too much,” Peter tried walking down the hall to the Sheriff’s office.

“No, Petah. I’m hungry. I may not grow fast but I am still a growing boy.”

“Ah okay,” Peter smiled at him.

He stepped into the office’s ajar door and spotted the man behind his desk on the phone still. Upon seeing Peter he smiled, but then caught sight of Stiles and his smile dropped a little in exasperation. “Hey, yeah, can you hold on for a minute,” he said to the person on the other side of the line. “Peter, I’m so sorry that he bothered you. He was supposed to stay put.”

Peter waved him off, “No, its no problem. I was actually coming to ask if I could take Stiles to pick up lunch, if that’s okay?”

“Lunch?”

“Stiles was getting a little nippy and it is around that time, so I figured that we could go get something to bring back while you take care of what you need to.” Peter then paused and said, “If that’s okay with you, that is?”

“Uh, yeah sure, that be—that be great actually.” The Sheriff looked at his phone grimacing. “I should be another thirty minutes or so.”

Peter smiled, “We’ll take our time, maybe pick up some dessert.” Peter walked out the door, Stiles still in his arms.

The Sheriff watched the man. This was the second time he had seen the man holding Stiles and Stiles actually quieted and content to just be there. And when Stiles did talk Peter hadn’t minded in the least. Shaking his head he picked up his phone and said, “Hello, yes I’m back, sorry about that.” He’d think more on it later.

 **The Sheriff was done with his phone call,** and his papers put away before Peter and Stiles even made it back. The phone call not taking as long as he thought it would. That was okay though. It gave him time to think on some things.

Like the funny fluttering feeling he got every time he saw Peter. They hadn’t actually talked a whole lot since he began to work here, but that didn’t mean that John hadn’t been paying him any attention.

At first he had thought it was his cop senses tingling. That sixth sense you have when you see a perp and know they were up to something. But the more he had observed the man the more he could honestly say that that wasn’t what was going on. He felt as if he were in a crisis since he met the man. A crisis of what, he hadn’t a clue.

So he watched him from afar and he could say that he liked what he saw. Peter was polite, and he hadn’t disrespected anyone in the department. He was careful and watched everything. It was done with a meticulousness that even the most trained officer would be hard put to imitate.

He wasn’t always nice, though he kept those thoughts to himself. But John could see it in how he gazed at some people, or how he reacted to them. Peter hated one of his deputies—Kolbe Argent—and John couldn’t really fault him in it. Kolbe had been harassing Peter from the very moment he started work here in the office, and it was always escalating. Kolbe had tried to lock Peter in the bathroom, ‘as a joke’, just yesterday. That was when John found out Peter had a fear of small enclosed spaces. Kolbe was written up and if he got one more citation he’d be off the force. John didn’t think it take to long before that happened.

Peter cared very much for his family. Especially his little cousins. He wouldn’t shut up about them to Deputy Sally Davenport about them. He also heard that Peter very much wanted little ones of his own, but that might not happen because the man was gay.

Peter had given him a lot to think on in such short period of knowing him.

The Sheriff looked up as he saw Stiles rush into the room. The seven year old’s hand was stuffed in a bag and he already had curly fries hanging from his mouth.

“Stiles, you little imp, I told you to wait,” Peter rushed in after him.

“’O ‘addy u’ll easts awe vey ‘urly fies!” Stiles said his mouth full. He squealed as he was lifted up, giggling and wiggling about in Peter’s arms, “I’s gosta eas ‘em ‘urst!”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Peter admonished, a sigh on his lips. The weird thing, John noted, was that Peter didn’t look annoyed or like he was about to strangle the kid, but that he was still smiling. Softly and lovingly was his gaze still, as he gathered Stiles up into his lap, putting both bags, the one he held, and the one in Stiles hands, up and onto the desk. “And we have to share the curly fries Stiles. We don’t want your Daddy to feel left out do we?” Then Peter gasped, “Unless you want to give him your dessert?”

Stiles’ eyes widened, “NO!” He shook his head, “No I’ll share. I’ll share I promise.” Stiles looked at his dad, “You can have some fries, and I can have some dessert,” he said as if that settled it.

John found himself laughing, Peter laughing right along with him as he set out the food on the desk. Stiles pouted.

After both men quieted to chuckles Peter cleared his throat, “I got you a chicken salad, and water. When I tried to order you a burger Stiles flipped. But I got you fries.” Peter looked to the half-eaten fries. “Or at least I tried to.”

John scratched the back of his neck, “Oh yeah, ever since his mom passed he’s been trying his best to keep me healthy.”

“Smart boy,” Peter nodded, hugging Stiles close as the boy ate his nuggets.

“To smart,” John chuckled.

Peter gazed up from his own salad and smiled, “Hey you know if you ever need someone to watch him, I’d love to.”

“Are you sure,” the sheriff’s eyebrows knitted together. “That’s a hefty offer, most of his babysitters quit within hours.”

Peter smiled at Stiles, “I think I could rough it out. It’d be a lot of fun.”

“Well alright, but you’re gonna regret that offer.” John spoke gruffly.

As it turned out the Sheriff did call… a week later and at 3 o’clock in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some words are misspelled. If they are in the dialogue its because Stiles is speaking that way. It sounds the may it reads. We all took kindergarten english sound the word out.


	3. Keeping Up With Stiles—A Feat Only for Gods… Or Werewolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets a call at 3 in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own neither the show Teen Wolf of its Characters.

**Peter can say that he knew that John was going to call.** The man was strapped for help, and Stiles didn’t make it any easier on the man. But he had thought it’d be at a more reasonable time.

It was three o’clock in the morning if his blinking alarm clock was correct, and he was dead asleep when the ring sounded throughout the room. Now ever since his little escapade into his not-future a few weeks back he had been a little twitchy to things… like the burner on the stove, the fireplace, Derek’s claws, and loud ringing noises. He wasn’t proud of it, but he was getting better, and what else could he do, other than wait it out.

Reaching out he put the phone to his ear, “’ello,” he sleep slurred.

“Peter? Peter I’m so sorry for calling like this, but I need help. I just got called in. It’s all hands on deck at the station because there was an abduction of an eight year old girl and I tried Melissa, but she’s on the night shift, and her babysitter refuses to watch Stiles again after last time. And my parents are out of town, and Claudia’s parents live four hours away and can’t be here. I just didn’t know who else to call.” John sounded on the verge of having a mental break down.

“John, it’s okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes, just take a breath.”

Peter could hear the man deflate from the stress, and had to smile.

“Okay, yeah, see you then… and Peter,” John called.

“Yes John?”

“Thank you.”

Peter hung up and grabbed his jacket and a pair of clothes to change into for later in the morning. Picking up his shoes he grabbed his wallet and keys, before heading for the front door.

In the entrance hall, Talia and Robert stood. Talia was alert and gazed at him as he approached just as Robert looked dead on his feet. He had probably only been asleep for little over and hour, where Talia was strict in her schedule to be in bed by ten with her work schedule. They both wore robes, standing next to each other offering staunch support. To each other, or him, Peter had no clue.

“John called; he needs someone to watch Stiles. There was an abduction of an eight year old girl and he had no one else.” Peter supplied.

Talia nodded, “Just be careful.” She opened the door for him and ushered him out, knowing that he would fill her in on more later.

Peter arrived at the Stilinski residence in a little over seven minutes. John was at the door as he pulled into the drive, his uniform on and his gun holstered.

“Again, I’m so sorry Peter,” John tried.

Peter stepped up to the man, deciding to be a bit bold, he put his finger on the man’s lips, “Think nothing of it. I don’t mind in the least.”

John huffed and smiled. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. It may be in an hour, it may be for lunch, or it may be tonight after dinner.”

Peter nodded.

“If you need, I can call Claudia’s parents at 8 and have them come watch him if it looks like I’ll be gone the whole day?” John asked.

“Oh, no. Me and Stiles will be perfectly fine no matter how long it takes.” Peter smiled at the man.

“You can use the guest bedroom, just leave the door open. Stiles knows that if my door is closed and the guest door is open then he has a babysitter watching him because I had a very important task to do for work.” Peter nodded acknowledging that. “And there is cereal for breakfast, of if you’re feeling up to it, pancakes and eggs. No bacon, he eats it all if can help it and then gets a tummy ache. Stuff for sandwiches for lunch, or I left enough money on the counter for both lunch and dinner if you want. Don’t let him play in his room for more than 20 minutes at a time or he destroys it. He likes to ride his bike, and if you have him do that for forty-five minutes straight you can get him to quiet down for at least two hours on the couch for a movie and a break for you. And then-“ John was cut off by Peter then.

“I think I got it John, though do you have any objections to Stiles coming over to my house to play for my nieces and nephews for a few hours?”

John shook his head no, “No I don’t mind, but watch him, he tends to drive other kids up the wall to the point of wanting to strangle him. Scott is the only kid I know that can play with him for more than thirty minutes at a time.”

He’d have to call Talia and give her a heads up, and to tell her to prep the kids for Stiles.

“Alright,” Peter just smiled at him once again, “I got this all handled. You go.”

Peter watched John get in his cruiser and drive off before heading on inside and up the stairs.

He found the guest room easily and slipping out of his shoes, he set his clothes down on the dresser and crawled onto the bed. He fell asleep more easily than he had since his crossroads with the smell of John and Stiles wafting around him.

**Peter woke when he felt a hefty weight on his chest.** Squinting his eyes open, he saw Stiles making himself comfortable, thumb in mouth, on his stomach, and Peter wrapped him up in his arms.

“Daddy had to go to work?” Stiles asked.

“Mmm,” Peter’s voice was scratchy, “Yes, your daddy had to go save a little girl from some bad people.”

“Oh, well that’s okay then,” Stiles nodded.

“Sleep Stiles,” And they did.

**When Peter woke the second time,** Stiles was still snoring. Though he had flopped off of Peter and was in now what looked like a very uncomfortable ball of limbs. Peter left him as he padded out of the room and down the stairs.

The clock on the oven said that it was a little after seven, and it was a good enough time as any to begin breakfast. When he reached the fridge he found a few drawings and worksheets put up on the fridge. There were two that amused him.

The first was a work sheet on sentences. It said: Write three sentences about your favorite thing. Stiles wrote. I like bacon. You like bacon. We love bacon. And didn’t that explain a lot.

The second was a drawing worksheet cut in half by a line. The first half asked Stiles to draw himself now. Stiles drew a little boy with a black blob in his arms that had blue dots in the head region. If Peter had to make a guess it was Stiles and Dirk. The second half asked Stiles to draw himself in a hundred years. Stiles drew a headstone. RIP written clearly across the grey half-oval sticking out of the ground. And wasn’t that a little morbid. This also explained a lot about Stiles in the future.

Peter opened the fridge and picked up the eggs, butter, jam, and blueberries, and walked it over to the counter. Now it was time to start on those pancakes. But first he should make that call to Talia.

He picked up the phone on the wall and dialed, hoping that she would answer and not let it go to voicemail. Talia picked up on the third ring, and greeted him none too kindly, “What!?” She was obviously delegated to kid duty as the only adult that wasn’t otherwise preoccupied, or Paul who had basketball camp for the next three days. Talia was a brilliant leader, and an amazing mom, but she had very little patience for watching the horde of adolescents that stampeded through their house on a good day. It probably didn’t help that Ken’s sister Sheltie had asked them to watch their daughter Diki for a few days as she and her husband Jason went on a kid’s free cruise. You wouldn’t think that one more added to the group would make a lot of difference, but it did. Diki was when she was two, and she’s four now. So she had control, but she could be two times as destructive then a normal born wolf, and four times as a human born into a pack of werewolves, which is three times as destructive as a regular child… except maybe Stiles. Peter had the feeling that Stiles could be as destructive as any born wolf on a good day, if how he acted as a teenager was any indication.

“Hello Talia, I was just calling to let you know that I was going to bring Stiles over.” Peter said in way of greeting.

“As in you bring him here to stay and help me watch this mass of children, or as in you bring him, drop him off, and go about your day? Because if it’s the second, I’ll murder you.” Peter could hear giggling in the background that had to be Annalese.

“It’s the first,” Peter affirmed.

“Well okay then. Get over here and make breakfast.” Talia demanded.

“No, I was going to make a quiet breakfast here. His dad had to leave last night and didn’t say goodbye. He even came into my room and slept with me. So I am going to make pancakes and talk to him about what he wants to do first. I was thinking about taking him for a run around the block a couple of times to help wear him out. I’m betting he could be as destructive as me at that age.” Peter said.

Talia groaned. “Whatever.” She pouted, she hated breakfast duty. “Is there anything else you needed?”

“Yeah, I need you to prep the children for him. He is diagnosed with ADHD, and John says that the only kid that doesn’t go running and screaming from him after thirty minutes is a boy named Scott.” Peter chuckled a little thinking of the Scott he bit.

“That young?” Talia asked. She was a psychologist, and knew what that meant.

“Younger, it’s that severe of a case. From what I can see of the kitchen his dad buys no artificial anything, or that has any dyes in it. He had sugar free white grape juice in the fridge, but a chart hanging up on the wall stating that Stiles can only have one cup for lunch. I smell some fruit leather—strawberry, but no cookies, ice cream, or candies to be found.” Peter informed her.

“Mother fucking moon,” Talia inhaled sharply. “And you want to bring him here!? We have enough terrors running amok.”

“I figured he’d fit right in,” Peter shrugged, even though he knew she wouldn’t see it. “And I hope he’ll be mine one day. I really like John and Stiles, their perfect.”

Talia huffed again, and snarled before shutting off the phone in defeat. Peter chuckled.

“Petah?” Peter turned sharply to the small voice. Stiles stood in the doorway, Dirk in his bent elbow. His other hand was down at his side and twitching ever so often like he had just too much energy to handle. Which he did. Stiles was a spark, so he did have way to much energy. Peter hoped that he could help Stiles learn to expend more of it and later control it. And until then, treating it like ADHD would suffice. And how the hell did Stiles sneak up on him. He’s a werewolf for Christ’s sake. “Petah, did you mean it?”

“Mean what sweetie?” Peter took a breath.

“That you want to be mine and daddy’s?” Stiles tilted his head.

“I—that’s something I need to discuss with your dad.” Peter answered.

“I would like you to be my second daddy,” Stiles smiled. “You’re so nice, and you listen, and you know how to calm me down. And I could call you Papa. I’d really like that.”

“Stiles honey, that’s something between me and your dad. We’ll see, alright.” Peter then turned to the stove. He had been prepping the ingredients as he talked to the batter was all mixed and ready for pouring. “How does pancakes sound?”

“Pancakes sound awesome,” Peter could hear the grin in the little boys tone.

“Great, now I didn’t see any syrup in the fridge, do you know where it is?” Peter asked.

“I don’t eat pancakes with syrup. I eat it with warmed up applesauce. It tastes really good.” Stiles informed him.

“Oh really, I never thought to try that.” Peter hummed. “Do you want blueberries in your pancakes?” Peter turned to him.

Stiles tilted his head and then nodded, “Yeah. I’ll try that if you try the applesauce.”

“Deal,” Peter smiled. “Now how does your dad warm up the applesauce?”

“In a pan,” Stiles informed him. He walked over to a cabinet that was two feet from the stove and pulled out a small sauce pan. “In this one,” and handed it to Peter.

Peter took the pan and placed it on the stove. He’d get to that in a moment. He had pancakes to make.


	4. Keeping Up With Stiles—Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf, or the Characters

**Peter picked the bike up and hefted it up onto his shoulder.** He was only able to run about a quarter of what he normally would but, at least he got some exercise. He and Stiles had ridden around the block four times. Stiles loved it, and smiled as he tried to keep up with him. Peter made sure to stay just ahead of him, his senses on overdrive making sure that Stiles was okay and only about a half a foot away from him. He had slowed down, and jogged behind Stiles when someone got to close. He may be a tad protective.

He put the bike on the porch and turned back to Stiles. “Hey, you ready to go to my house?”

“Why?” Stiles asked.

“My nieces and nephews want to meet you. They want someone new to play with.” Peter said.

“You’re lying Petah.” Stiles said.

“My name is Peter Stiles; I know you can say it.” Stiles ignored him as he grabbed the keys. Stiles disappeared to go put his helmet up and then ran to the door.

“Peter _come on,_ let’s go!” Stiles called back.

“I knew you were acting younger then you are,” Peter called after him. Stiles laughed. “Little manipulator,” Peter breathed. “I’m so proud.” Peter smirked. Bet that’s how he has his father wrapped around his little finger.

**They arrived to the Hale house in a matter of minutes.** Talia greeted them from the porch as Peter drove up. She was holding Annalese on her hip. Aiden was leaning against her leg and sucking his thumb.

“Took you long enough!” Talia yelled out to him as Peter was helping Stiles out of the car.

“We went for a run,” Peter said.

“It was fun; Peter let me ride my bike. We went around the block four times, that is equivalent to a mile, but Peter wasn’t even winded. I even rode my bike really fast.” Stiles chimed in.

“Really now?” Talia smiled at the little boy.

“Yes,” Stiles answered so matter of fact.

“Where are the little heathens?” Peter asked.

“Megan and Martha are inside napping with Diki. Annalese woke up, and Aiden refused to go down. Derek is in the den with Cora watching a movie and I am exhausted.” Talia huffed.

Peter looked down at Aiden, “Do you want to show Stiles where the den is?”

Aiden peered over at Stiles and waved. Stiles waved back suddenly shy and hiding behind Peter. Stiles gazed up at Peter then, and in a shy voice asked, “What if they don’t like me Petah?” Peter almost melted, and he could hear Talia’s intake of breath. Then he saw that sparkle in the boy’s caramel tinted eyes and knew that this was a play. The use of his distorted name was a tell as well. But what was more, he could smell the sincerity of the question, and just like in the future Stiles heart was rapid and uneven, making it impossible to tell whether he was telling lying or not.

And Peter could tell that it had the effect Stiles had wanted as Aiden rushed forward, thumb still in mouth and holding out his hand in offering.

He was going to be creating a monster, raising the boy with these wolves will make him the biggest weapon they will have against the hunters in future. A future that Peter is still sure will be torn down by Kate Argent. But not in the way she had in the past, he won’t let her get ahold of Derek this time around. He also won’t let Paige get to him either. It would all pan out with Peter introducing his mate to him this early on.

Peter crotched down, deciding to play along with the boy. “Stiles this is Aiden, I think he would very much like to be your friend.”

Aiden stepped down one more step closer to Stiles. Stiles smiled at him and climbed the porch steps and took the other boy’s hand. The two wondered further into the house. Peter climbed the stairs after them and stood with Talia.

“Have you started lunch yet?” Peter asked.

“Nope, that’s your job.” Talia laughed.

“Of course it is.” Peter smirked. He turned to head into the house after the boys when Talia grabbed Peter’s arm.

Peter turned to face her, “Peter I know that you want the Stilinski family to become part of our family but aren’t you moving a little fast? Bringing the boy here? Is that wise?”

He looked into her eyes and placed a hand on hers, “Talia,” he paused, “Talia I had a dream. No, that isn’t right. I had a lifetime.”

Her eyes widened, “You mean like grandmother.”

Peter hesitated and then nodded, “Exactly like grandmother.”

Talia raised a hand to her mouth, “Are you following that path, or are you taking another.”

“The second,” Peter supplied.

“But Peter! Then how can you know that this is the right thing?” Talia asked, “The sheriff can’t be your mate, your true mate died when you were eight. So how can you know?”

“No but he is a potential mate, and what’s more Stiles has a mate.” Peter offered. Talia tilted her head, “Just wait and see.”

“You knew him? You knew this boy in the future?” Talia asked.

“Yes, the most brilliant boy I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.” He wasn’t going to let on anything else he knew about the boy or what he knew other then, “He is mine. My pup. My baby. He couldn’t be more mines then if he was born from me.”

Talia took her hand away slowly. She had heard of this before, when a werewolf adopted another’s young. No one knew why or how it came to be. It just did.

Peter turned from his alpha and began his trek into the house. He peeked around the corner to see Stiles hiding behind a stoic Derek, Cora glaring at him, while Aiden sat in the middle of the tussle looking back and forth between the three. What made it that much more adorable was that Derek’s brow was lowered, indicating his confusion as to why he was playing guard. It’d be a couple more years and the hit of puberty before he figured it out.

Smiling, he headed to the kitchen, Talia already there and snapping Annalese into her highchair. The mushed peas, and bits of chicken already in a bowl and set aside, ready to feed the baby girl.

Peter headed over to the counter; supplies for crazy spaghetti already out. It was one of the kid’s favorites. Dyed spaghetti noodles seasoned with butter and garlic. There were also slices of dyed ham that he had made the night previous, and tie-died blondies with M&Ms for desert. They did this every Wednesday, it was a tradition started by their own parents when they were low on food and moral and couldn’t leave the house unguarded to hunt. They had little ingredients and food coloring—and so started the crazy spaghetti. It was Peter who had the idea of dyed ham, and Ken had brought home the recipe for the tie-dye blondies. And so crazy spaghetti Wednesday became more of a staple with more goodies.

He began to boil the dyed water, and hummed his favorite tune as he listened to Talia try and get Annalese to eat the peas. He could here Stiles telling Derek about his stuffed toy—Dirk, and how Derek made grunting noises as he listened intently. Peter could just imagine the confused crinkle on his brow. The very same one that he had had in his alternate future when Stiles blabbered on to him about everything under the moon and Derek couldn’t or wouldn’t tell him to shut up. Or he had but he hadn’t meant it, and Stiles ignored him when he gave the harsh command that meant nothing.

 

Peter had a feeling that this time around Derek would have very little control. The same control that Derek would have, hard gained in the alternate future. Derek would be putty in Stiles’ hands.

And wasn’t that a pretty thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there are probably a lot of grammatical errors here but honestly I'm tired of looking at it.


	5. Threats by a Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf, or the Characters.

**Peter looked up from his place on the couch when he heard the door click open.** He had heard the cruiser coming from down the street, but didn’t want to freak the sheriff out by standing out on the porch as he pulled up.

“John,” Peter greeted with a warm smile and a warmer tone. He would even go as far as to say the smile reached his eyes, and his tone reached into his heart. What these Stilinski’s did to him was unimaginable. But when he saw the look on the sheriff’s face it fell. “Oh no. What happened?”

John crumpled into his arm chair, his head falling into his hands. “We found her,” his voice came out as more of a croak. Peter couldn’t ask if she was alive. It just wasn’t something you ask. “She was alive.” Peter frowned. “Brutally beaten and raped. Several times… to many times. They had her for forty-eight hours. Her parents lied to us about when she was abducted. They didn’t even realize when she went missing. She was barely alive.” Peter moved before he even realized that it was his intention. He sat on the arm of the chair, leaning across John, hugging him, and giving a comfort to him that he hadn’t afforded anyone in the past. Even his mate from his other life, nor his children. What was it with these Stilinski men? That was when he heard it, the barest of a whisper, “It may have been better for her if we found her dead.”

“Oh John,” Peter whispered. “Do you really believe that?” Peter did. After what he had gone through in that fire. Yes he was glad he lived now, that he knew Stiles, and now John. That he had this chance with John. But for months in that nursing facility, stuck in a coma, his mind was split into two things. Revenge and the agonizing question of why he had to go through that, why he couldn’t have died to? Eventually revenge won out. But there was some trauma you never came back from.

“Yes.” John’s voice was steady this time.

And that was all Peter needed to fall a little bit in love with the man.

“I was caught in a fire when I was a boy.” Peter told him. It wasn’t a lie. He had been. It was a shed that a group of hunters had cornered him in. It was what made the Hale family house coming down around him that much worse, that much more terrifying. “I wasn’t burned, other than a few minor ones that didn’t leave much of a scar.” That was a lie. He had been burned then too. “It was in a shed. One of the walls gave out and I was in the right corner to escape.” John was looking at him now. “It took me a very long time to get over it, to be fine again. But I am now.” Peter smiled at him. “And yes maybe right now, it may be better for her to not be among the living. But if she’s strong, if she can survive this, then she will come out better then everyone.”

John sagged into him. Peter could see the relief, and comfort he took from that. And he was glad that it helped, even if it was only a little.

It took a moment for John to speak after that. “How was my little monster then?”

“Your little monster as a little darling,” Peter smiled.

John snorted, “My little monster is a little monster.” It was stated as a matter of fact. There was no maliciousness in it, no wariness of it, and only acceptance and pride shining through him as he said it. It made Peter smiled. Oh mother moon he wanted this man. He wanted his child… their child. He only wanted.

“Well he was my little darling after I got him to say my name properly. I mean honestly, Petah?” It was a fond exasperation in his voice.

John laughed then, “I’m Daddy when he wants something, or he’s trying to pool the wool over my eyes.” So the man wasn’t as wrapped around Stiles’ finger as much as Peter believed.

“He still gets what he wants, even if you know what he’s doing?”

John turned in the seat to face him, “I say no enough. He doesn’t always get his way, though I let him think he does. He’s a good kid. Not spoiled, and he’s more honest then I want him to be most days.” John tilts his head, “He has good instincts. He is more often than not right in how he acts to get a reaction out of people. It’s so strange sometimes seeing my seven year old doing things that they teach us on the force to get an honest answer. He went with me to a seminar two years ago and it’s been downhill from there.”

Peter laughed, “Ah yes, I got to see that in action today. When I was introducing him to my nephew Aiden. He reverted back to calling me Petah, and acted shyer then I thought possible for him to get Aiden to be more comfortable.”

John chuckled. “Oh he’s been pulling that since age three. First time was with Scott, his best friend. They’ve been inseparable since.” John’s eyes crinkled, “How else did your day go?”

“Well in the morning we went for a bicycle-run around the block a few times. Then for lunch we went over to my house and he played with Derek, Cora, and Aiden, while the babies kept each other entertained.” Peter giggled then, “I think Derek has a little bit of a crush on Stiles. He followed him around and did everything Stiles told him to. It was adorable.”

John’s smiled. “How old is Derek?”

“He’s ten,” Peter supplied. Johns smile dropped.

“Isn’t he a bit too old… to be crushing on a seven year old.” John asked.

Peter gave him a wan smile. “Derek’s a bit special. He is developmentally slower than most children. I’d say while he is ten, he is mentally at about six or seven.” Not necessarily true. He is his age but socially he is behind developmentally. Derek is special, he was born a wolf. Not just a werewolf, but a fully-fledged wolf. So he doesn’t always get social interactions. But John didn’t need to know that.

“Does he have that syndrome? I’m not sure of the name, where he will stop developing?” John asked.

“I think I know what you’re talking about, and no. He will eventually for the most part grow out of it by the times he reaches his twenties, and that’s a far off estimate. We are actually going to homeschool him, at least until high school.” Peter said.

John looked at him then, “I was actually thinking about having Stiles home schooled, at least until he has a better grasp on his ADHD. But I couldn’t think of how to go about it seeing as I work too much to do it myself.”

Peter smiled, “I could talk to Talia. We could probably integrate Stiles into the program we already have going for Derek. It would probably help him to have a friend.”

“What do you guys do? With Derek I mean?”

“I do most of it, and my job isn’t as demanding as yours. I only need to be at the office when you call me in because you can’t find where you put the start button.” Peter teased.

“That was one time,” John mumbled flustered.

“Well,” Peter cleared his throat. John was too cute. “Anyway… I teach Derek most times, but the family steps in and helps. They take him on field trips, or to group activities with other home schooled children,” Other home schooled werewolves or human children born into packs.

“That actually sounds like something Stiles would enjoy.” John said. “And he won’t be limited by a classroom. The teachers he has had couldn’t keep his attention long because he already learned most of it on his own. The kids a sponge. The only consolation is that there was a girl in his class, Lydia, that was the exact same. They kept each other busy for the most part. But she is going to be going to a private school next year to help her academically. I tried to get Stiles into the school and he passed their stupid little tests, but he was reject because of his… hyperactivity.”

Peter smiled down at him, “Like I said I’ll speak to Talia. I’m sure she’ll be fine with it. She likes Stiles.” And she loved that Derek wasn’t off brooding in some corner most of the day. The boy never changes.

John gazed up at him. And then Peter didn’t know what was going on. He felt lips touch his, softly. A gentleness that had never been privy to, enveloped in him strong arms… safe arms. He may be the werewolf here, but this man… he knew that this man would keep him safer than anyone ever had… this strong human man. He wanted to swoon. He would wait to do that later. He had to be here and now. He had to experience this as it is.

It was a chaste kiss, John leaning up into him, arms around his waist. But it was the most intimate thing he had ever experienced.

They broke apart then, resting their foreheads together. Peter could feel his lungs expand heavily. He was breathing hard, and so was John. It was just a chaste kiss, but the effect it had was phenomenal.

“Thank you,” John whispered. Then with more of a voice he asked, “I hope I am not being to forward, and know we haven’t known each other very long, but would you like to go to dinner with me this Saturday?”

Peter grinned and while nodding his head, “I would love to.”

**When Stiles climbed onto the sofa John knew he was in trouble.** Stiles had climbed onto the opposite end of the sofa, and began to watch the game just as John was. It was only a few minutes in that Stiles began to shift closer to him. Inch by inch his little monster clawed his way closer. He really hoped that Peter would finish in the kitchen and come rescue him.

Peter was making dinner. A habit that started after two months of dating. It had been hard for them to actually go on very many dates though. And their first was certainly something to remember, consisting of butterscotch pudding, a couple of drag queens, a knife, a hysterical babysitter in Laura, and a trip to the emergency room. But John couldn’t say he didn’t love every moment of it.

But with a seven year old, a job like his, and a family like Peter’s it was impossible to go on dates as just them. So instead, dinner at the house became a staple very quickly. Peter could bring over any of the children he was charged to watch, and he would make dinner for them all. John had tried to enter the kitchen and give the man a hand, but Peter always shooed him out, only ever letting Stiles or Cora and Aiden help, no one else.

The first time Peter brought Derek over had been one of the most awkward and hilarious nights of his life. Stiles had decided to help Peter that evening, so when Peter ushered John out of the kitchen, he had turned to see Stiles doing the same to Derek. The look on the poor boys face was hilarious and much too sad.

It was okay though. He and Derek had had their revenge. Peter and Stiles may rule his kitchen, but his domain was in the back with the grill. Derek enjoyed flipping the burgers while he drank his A&W just as John drank his beer. Though he did try and take the patties off way to soon. But he was a child, what else was John to expect.

It was just him and Stiles, and Peter tonight. And it was nice, being just them… like a family. So when Stiles climbed onto the couch with him, instead of guarding the door to the kitchen for Peter, John knew something was up.

He felt his little boy climb into his lap then, and looked down into his face. Stiles placed a hand on each of his cheeks, making sure he had his daddy’s attention.

“When I was a baby, and momma died, I wanted a new momma.” Stiles said in a very serious voice.

John’s eyes widened, “And is that what you want now Stiles?” He and Peter hadn’t actually done much cuddling when Stiles was around, as far as he knew, they were just really good friends.

Stiles shook his head, “No Daddy listen! That was when I was a baby. Do you remember the boy in my class last year with two mommies?” John nodded. “Well he said having two mommies was better, and I think he was right. But Daddy, do you know what’s better than two mommies?” John shook his head, he wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. “Two daddies. You are my Daddy, but I think I need a Papa.” Stiles face got even more serious, “I want Petah to be my Papa. You will make him my Papa, Daddy.” Did that sound a little ominous? Did his seven year old just threaten him?

John heard a chuckle from the door way, and turned to see Peter leaning against the door jam. Peter was clearly amused, “You heard him, better get on that.” Peter waggled his ring figure at him and then winked showing that he was playing around. “I was just looking for my little darling helper, it seemed like I was abandoned for a few minutes there.”

Stiles jumped off John as if he’d been scolded, “No Peter, I was just telling Dad something. I’ll help.”

Peter chuckled again and walked back into the kitchen. Stiles followed, but before exiting he turned to John and pointed his fingers at his eyes then back at John. His eyes widened in response.

Dear lord, his son _had_ threatened him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know everyone probably wanted to read the first date between John and Peter but I honestly just didn't want to write it right now. So if I do write it in the future, it'll probably be a oneshot.


	6. The Sex Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf, or the Characters

**Peter sat on the sofa,** the empty popcorn bowl in his lap as he leaned into John. They were watching Grease. It was nearing the end of the movie and Danny had just fallen to the ground starting the song ‘You’re the One that I Want.’ Peter loved this song.

As the movie began to roll credits, John leaned in and blew on his ear. “You know we still have two hours before Melissa calls to tell me that Stiles wants to come home.”

Peter turned to him, “I thought he was spending the night at Scott’s place?”

John smiled, “Oh he is, but Stiles does this thing where if he knows I’m not working the night I ship him over to the McCall’s he calls roughly around 10:30pm saying he’s having nightmares. He isn’t, not the kind that he remembers afterwards anyway. He just can’t stand being away from me on nights he doesn’t have to. Once Melissa didn’t let him call and tried to tell him I was working. I wasn’t I just wanted a night to myself. And he waited till she was asleep and snuck down to the kitchen to call me at midnight.”

“He is such a darling boy,” Peter smiled.

“He’s a little pest.” John laughed.

“He’s a darling boy,” Peter shot back at John’s laugh. “And he takes after you my big strong man.” He crawled into John’s lap. John grinned against his lips.

“Is that right,” John asked, pulled Peter in closer.

“Mmm,” Peter murmured kissing down John’s neck.

“I love how much you love him,” John lifted Peter to face him, “I love you Peter.”

Peter froze for a second and then his arms swung up and around John’s neck hugging him tight. “I-I love you too.” Peter nuzzled John’s neck and looked up at him, “Would you like to take this upstairs?” Peter hummed, “We still have a bit before Stiles comes home.”

John looked down at him and smiled, “Really. Now?”

Peter nodded, and got up from the couch, holding out his hand for John to take. They had been dating for over four months and hadn’t moved past heavy petting. Either not having the time, or not really being ready to go further than that, or maybe a combination of the two.

Peter stood with John there in the living room. John was taller than him by a good four inches, and a little broader. He was such a handsome man. Holding onto John’s hand he began the trek up the stairs and into John’s bedroom. He had only been in here once before. He was watching Stiles and noticed that John had eight loads of laundry. So he had done the man’s laundry because the man had worked a 45 hour week, and he could use a break. He hadn’t tried to look around then, only putting the clean and folded cloths on the bed and leaving.

Now he had a chance to look around. It was painted in a light beige color, with coffee colored trim. His bedspread was burgundy, and the pillow a set of mix-matched reds. It was a very soothing room. Some of the pillows even looked like blood. He loved it.

Peter turned and was backed up into the bed. John hovering over him. Peter divested his shirt and his pants as he went. Leaving his body bare for John to see. John had yet to take off his cloths or even touch his belt. He seemed like he wasn’t able to really think, staring at Peter like he was the predator. John soaked him in, and then so slowly that he had Peter trembling, he began to undress.

Never before had Peter been only the prey. Even before when he was being hunted, he was still very much a predator. But this man, this fragile human man, had him feeling every bit the prey. He never thought he would enjoy it so much. But in truth he loved it.

John let his pants fall to the floor then, completely naked for Peter to see, and crouched over his quivering body. Peter felt John’s nose run from his collar bone to his ear, causing a ripple of shivers to inch up his spin. Peter sucked in a breath. A husky chuckle sounded in his ear.

“Oh my dear Peter, I have wanted to do this for so very long.” John took hold of Peter’s length, “You are very much a tease. But you know that already. The first time you were here, if I hadn’t been sick I may have jumped you then. Leaning over me, into me, rubbing up against me.” He stroked in time with his every word, squeezing him now.

“Nugah!” Peter moaned.

John raised his fingers to Peter’s mouth. Peter sucked them in and John had to hold his every urge back when he saw Peter drool around them. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen and John groaned.

He pulled his fingers free and moved down Peter’s body. He licked up Peter’s length, tasting it for the first time. Peter tasted of woods and fire. He scorched John in the best way. John breathed in deeply as he sucked Peter into his mouth, and played with his entrance, one finger circling and then pushing past that ring of too tight muscle. He added a second finger when he felt Peter relax, and then a third, scissoring them.

Peter loved the stretch and the burn. He felt himself open for John.

“John please,” Peter begged. “Please!”

John leaned up and over Peter, opened his nightstand and grabbing a bottle of lube. Slicking his fingers up and pushed them back into Peter’s entrance. He searched for that spot that would ignite the man below him. He knew when he found it. Peter surged up off the bed and let out a strangled scream. John smirked. Peter was just so easy for him to read.

He slipped his fingers from the prepped body and slicked himself up. As he leaned over Peter he looked him in the eyes. Peter’s eyes shone, half lidded and full of lust and love. He leaned down and kissed Peter filthy as he pressed his length into the plied entrance Peter so willingly offered him. He slid in easy and Peter gasped.

John took Peter hard then, and Peter loved every second of it.

 **Peter lay in John’s arms basking.** It had been so amazing. For their first time it had surpassed everything Peter thought it would. John had been gentle, but strong, he had devoured Peter but cherished him in the same breath. It hadn’t been the first time that Peter had been with a man, but it had been the first time that Peter had let a man dominate him in this life and his previous. He knew that meant something.

Peter sighed happily and snuggled in closer to John. The man made him feel so human and more like an animal then anyone ever had.

John laughed, squeezing Peter to him.

And then the phone rang.

“And right on time,” John chuckled. “My son is so predictable.”

Peter smiled and reached for the phone before John could, and answered a smile on his lips. “Hello.”

“You’re not Daddy,” Stiles said.

“No little darling I’m not.” Peter answered.

“You’re Peter.”

Peter chuckled, of course the boy knew who he was and didn’t even bother to ask why he was there. More often than not Peter was at their house. Why should today be any different? “Yes, I am.”

“Are you done playing with Daddy all by yourself now? Can you come bring me home?” Stiles asked.

Peter found himself nodding even though Stiles couldn’t see him, “Yes we are done playing, though I wish you were here baby boy. It would have made our play date much more fun.” Stiles giggled. “I told your daddy that, but what do daddies know? I’ll be right there alright?”

“Okay Peter, I’ll see you in a bit. I love you.” Stiles said and hung up.

Peter looked at the phone then. “What is with you Stilinski men all telling me you love me all at once?”

“We know what we want,” John shrugged out of bed and slipped his pants on, “And when we fall in love, we fall in love.”

Peter reached for the pants that John was making to hand to him as well as his shirt. He headed for the bathroom a smile on his face. “Give me a minute to clean up and then we can go get him.”

John smiled, “I’ll be waiting downstairs.” Before Peter reached the bathroom John turned him and held him to his chest. “Hey I have a question.”

“Hmm, yes?”

“Would you like to have a sleepover?” John asked.

“I think I’d like that very much,” Peter said. John let him go.

It had been such a great evening.


	7. To Kill Someone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf, or the Characters.

**Peter looked into the study once more,** checking to see if the boys were getting along. It had been a couple of months and while the rest of the Hale children were in school, Derek had been once again kept at home. He still didn’t socialize well with others that weren’t family.

Except for Stiles.

For reasons only Talia and Peter could fathom, Derek listened to everything the boys said with heavy intensity. Derek himself couldn’t pin down exactly what was happening to him.

So when on the second week of school Peter caught John one night hunched over on the coach near tears and still unsure of how to handle his little boy, Peter asked what it was that John needed.

“I need for him to be able to be himself and not get constantly punished or picked on for it.” John said warily.

Peter offered to become Stiles teacher then. They had talked about it before, homeschooling… but John wanted to try one more time at the public school. Stiles’ friend Scott was in his class and John wasn’t keen to separate them. Or to give up the support system he had in Melissa. But this teacher seemed to have it out for Stiles.

“I talked to the councilor at the school to go over what Stiles would need to keep on track, and she seemed open enough.” John said looking at Peter, “You know extended time on tests in a quiet environment, and how to keep him busy, like after a lesson quiz him to make sure he knows the material and then let him study something that has cought his interest… like anatomy. She thought I was kidding but when I brought Stiles in and asked him about human musculature groups, she was amazed. He told her all about them, and then went on to tell her about how a dogs musculature is different. Then we brought his teacher in, and she just… wasn’t receptive. She didn’t care Peter.” John looked heart broken. “She said she would do as asked to the best of her ability and then I hear three days later from my crying seven year old that she made him sit in the corner all day for being a dunce. Who does that?”

“He should be homeschooled John, let me handle his education like I do for Derek.” Peter asked quietly.

John nodded, tired and frustrated.

Stiles was pulled from school after that and he was already on fifth grade learning.

“See Derek the problem is Y+19 = 25. And you have to solve for Y.” Stiles said. “What was the first step?”

“Getting Y alone.” Derek grumbled. He hated math. Peter smiled at him. With Stiles here it was getting easier for him to teach Derek math. Where he was advanced in a lot of his studies he was severly behind in mathematics, but with Stiles he was fast catching up, even if the boy was only seven.

“And to do that?” Stiles prompted.

“You have to subtract 19.”

“And what’s the rule?” Stiles prompted again, which meant Stiles was getting frustrated with Derek and his non-compliance. That was a good sign.

“What you do to one side you have to do to the other. So 25 – 19 = 6, which means Y = 6,” Derek quickly finished up. He didn’t like it when Stiles was annoyed with him. He hated it in fact. Peter grinned from behind them.

“Good,” Stiles huffed. “Now I’m going to finish my worksheet. I want to be done with school now, and I don’t want to take forever to finish. You don’t need my help. Finish on your own.”

Peter watched as they went back to work, Stiles on his own sheet and Derek huffily on his own sheet. It only took three minutes for the older boy to break.

“Sorry Stiles.” Derek mumbled.

Stiles looked up at him shrewdly, “Its okay. But I know you know how to do this stuff. Please don’t act like you don’t.”

“I-“ Derek gulped. “I like it when you talk to me.”

Stiles peered up at him again. Then cocked his head. Peter could see the cogs spinning in his overactive brain, and he had to say that the rest of Derek’s life was going to be hilarious. Stiles nodded, “Okay, but wait until I’m done, and don’t act stupid. I don’t like stupid people.”

Derek nodded quickly.

Peter pulled his head out of the room, and covered his laugh. Oh yes, interesting indeed.

**Peter rushed up the stairs and into the station.** He was running so late. John had called forty minutes ago asking for him to come and get Stiles, but Peter had been in the town over getting a few things for Talia. All he knew was that something was wrong. Terribly and horribly wrong.

He looked frantically around the office and at all the deputies that were rushing about like their heads weren’t attached to their bodies. He couldn’t see them anywhere.

Where were they?

“John!?” Peter called.

John’s head shot out of an interrogation room. He had a look on his face; one of anger, hostility, and gut-wrenching fear.

“Peter,” he called.

“John? What’s going on? What’s happened?” Peter rushed over to the man. “Where’s Stiles?” _Where’s my baby!?_

“Petah!” Peter’s head whipped around to the heartbreaking sob from his baby boy. They boy flew passed his father and at Peter so fast the werewolf almost didn’t have time to crouch down and envelope him in a solid hug. Stiles was shaking and crying and Peter looked up at John.

“John?”

John lifted Peter to his feet, and directed them to his office. Peter noticed that the station had quieted to a hush. John had them sit down on the sofa, sitting down next to them and putting his arms around them as Peter still held Stiles.

“I got here as fast as I could John,” Peter spoke, “I was over in Ginsburg picking things up for Talia. I think one of your speed traps at the edge of the city caught me coming into town, but after a moment of chasing me with lights they stopped and pulled back.”

“I put out a notice for your car,” John’s voice was heavy. “They knew you were coming.”

“What happened John?” Peter asked. He put his hand to John’s cheek. “What’s going on?”

“I was at the park, with Stiles. You know how he has that mini lacrosse league on Wednesdays,” Peter nodded. “I looked away for a second Peter, not even that, and when I turned around some man had Stiles and was pulling him into his black SUV.” John was shaking, and Peter was surprised to realize that he was shaking too. “I didn’t even think, I just pulled out my gun and knee-capped him. There was another one, he got away, ran the moment his accomplice went down.”

“Oh-oh god,” suddenly it was hard for Peter to breath. He clutched Stiles closer and looked down at the still crying boy. If something were to happen to Stiles… he’d go crazier than he had when his other mate and family died in the fire in his first life. Stiles was his everything. He noticed blood smeared at the corners of Stiles’ mouth. Like it had been hastily wiped away.

“He bit the man when he put his hand over his mouth.” John said, noticing Peter wiping away the rest of the blood that Stiles had at the creases of his mouth. “You should see his hand, it’s torn to pieces, my brave brave boy.” John put his hand atop Stiles’ head, and the boy quieted some finally.

“The other man?” Peter asked.

“He got away,” John growled.

Peter looked into John’s eyes, and hoped that this man would understand. “If he ever comes near Stiles again John, I’ll kill him.” He looked down at Stiles then and wiped the tears away, “If anyone tries to hurt my—hurt Stiles again, I’ll kill them. No one can, no one will harm him, no one.” Peter finished in a whisper.

John just held them closer.

**It had been a couple of hours since the scene in the office.** Peter was still there with them, and Stiles had just finished his statement to social services with Peter there in witness. It looked like the man was going to go away for a very long time, and John grimaced that it wouldn’t be forever.

Stiles was now coloring with the highlighters on Deputy Cheryl’s desk, and singing a song he had learned a few days ago, and Peter stood beside him. It was like neither of them could take their eyes from him for to long, lest he disappear. John knew he had gotten lucky today, it could have turned out totally different.

John turned to Peter, to look at him.

This man… John didn’t even know.

“Peter,” John spoke softly.

Peter tilted his head in John’s direction, indicating that he was listening, but his eyes never left Stiles.

“You love him,” John spoke again.

“I-“ Peter faltered, “So much.” John could hear the strain in the man’s voice.

“Like he’s your own.” Peter nodded, eyes still never leaving Stiles.

“I love you,” John’s voice was thick. Peter finally turned to look at him.

“I love you too,” Peter spoke voice just as thick and just as soft, “I didn’t know how much until today. I knew that I did, that I did love you. But today… after the prospect of losing either of you…”

“Will you move in with me?”

“I-“ Peter looked at John, and then back at Stiles, “Yes.”

John smiled.

He knew that Peter was hiding something. Peter was always hiding something. But John didn’t care. Because this man loved him, and he loved his son. Loved them enough to protect them, and to be protected by them. To fight for them, and cry for them. To kill for them. He had seen as much in the man’s face today.

Being the Sheriff most would think that John followed the law to a T, and he did. He always would. But for his son… he’d break all the rules, and cross every line. And he had found a man that would cross it with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe the reaction of all my readers. It’s amazing, and very flattering to say the least. I have people reviewing to me in Spanish even! Which is neat and I have to translate… I like the challenge, and since it’s been years since I have taken a Spanish class I was a little rusty. I just wanted to take the time to say thank you. To all of you and that I really appreciate the feedback.


	8. Wolf Ways Are Here To Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Peter look at this pretty purple flower."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf, or the Characters.

**Peter hefted the box up into his arms.** It only took three days to get his things together back at the Hale Manor, and to clear out space here at the Stilinski residence.

John had cleared out his office for the most part.

“I don’t use it,” John shrugged, and moved his current case files into the dining room. “The desk doesn’t have enough table space.” He said when Peter asked him why he would do such a thing. So the office became Peter’s, and a smaller table was moved into it for Stiles and Derek to study on during the day. Most of the shelves were empty already, John never bothering to actually put anything up on them, and the desk only held the long on-going case files that the Sheriff hadn’t solved yet.

So Peter packed up his books and his laptop, and hoped that it would be a while longer until John asked him why he had so many ancient tomes on creatures that shouldn’t exist.

He carried the box into the house and smiled as the seven year old ran around his feet, and jumping up and down like he had too much energy buzzing around underneath his skin.

“Stiles darling boy, will you help me and go get that very last box there in the car?” Peter asked. The box was a wooden box filled with a few herbs that were more magically inclined.

Stiles giggled, “Yeah, sure.” Peter turned to watch him pick the box up off the seat and close the car door and then run towards him. Stiles ran past him and into the house. Peter smiled after him and put the box he was carting down in the hallway before closing the door.

John was at work handling the almost abduction case. It turned out that the man was involved in a string of cases. First they abduct the child, then they walk the parents into a trap and then they slaughter the whole family. It had happened to five other families that the department was aware of, all in the state of California. There could be more. And what was worse was that Peter knew of two of the families that were on that list. One was another family of werewolves, and the other a family of werejaguars. For all he knew the others could be supernatural families as well. And if that were true than they targeted Stiles because they saw him as Peter’s.

Which, while it would deter most hunters, for the more insane bunch, would only prove incentive.

Peter growled under his breath. No one would harm his pup.

Stiles stuck his head around the corner, “Are you coming Peter? You said you would show me how to make pancakes for Daddy.”

“Don’t you mean for Derek?” Peter teased. Pancakes are Derek’s favorite, and Stiles found out three days ago. He had been pestering Peter ever since to learn how to make them under the pretense that they are for his dad.

Stiles eyes widened, “No!” He stormed off then, “I don’t like that stupid head.”

“We don’t call people stupid Stiles,” Peter chided.

“Well he’s an ignoramus!” Stiles yelled, “And a liar!”

“That’s better,” Peter laughed. “And what did Derek do now?”

“He said he didn’t know why his mommy makes him be homeschooled. But he does. I know he knows. He just won’t tell me. He lied to me and that’s not okay!” Stiles ranted.

“Maybe he has a good reason; maybe you should give him a chance to tell you when he’s ready.”

“He’s my best friend, he should tell me now!” Stiles huffed.

“That’s not always how friendship works my darling boy.” Peter said, crouching down to be on Stiles level.

“But me and Scott don’t ever keep secrets,” Stiles rebuked.

And that explained so much of the co-dependent friendship/brotherhood/being-one-person-in-two-bodies relationship that was Scott&Stiles.

“Well honey, not everyone is the same. Scott may very well be a different kind of friend.” Peter explained.

Stiles paused, “Like how Dad and Melissa are a different kind of friends from you and Dad?”  

Peter had to haul himself back. How in the world had Stiles deduced that? He couldn’t possible understand the full implications. “Yes, kinda like that.”

“And how you have a secret that you won’t tell Dad,” Stiles nodded.

“But I will eventually,” Peter whispered to Stiles taking his tiny hands into his own. “When I am ready I will tell both you and your Dad.”

“And Derek too?” Stiles asked.

Peter nodded, “And Derek too.”

“Alright,” Stiles smiled, “Now will you show me how to make pancakes?”

“Yeah, Stiles, I would be glad to show you.”

“And tomorrow when Derek comes over, can we make pancakes again?” Stiles asked shyly.

“Yes, of course,” Peter smiled taking the boys hand, “But only if you help me unpack later, do we have a deal?”

Stiles grinned, “Deal.”

They laughed as they walked into the kitchen to make breakfast for dinner.

**Peter was kneeled over and turning the earth at the back of the house.** He was getting the flower plots ready to grow a few herbs, both for cooking and for magical purposes. It was a rewarding job, but a slow one.

Stiles was playing at the edge of the yard behind him. Near where the yard meets the woods. Peter’s senses were on high alert, monitoring Stiles’ every move.

He heard the little footsteps come up behind him, and smiled.

“Peter! Peter look at this pretty flower.” Stiles giggled.

Peter turned and then reared back. Stiles was holding a purple flower, and his eyes were wide as he dropped it.

“Peter?”

Peter covered his face and turned away, trying to hide from the little boy.

It was only a minute before he felt little hands clutching his face. Peter looked up and smiled at him.

“Your eyes glow.” Stiles stated.

“Yes.”

“And you had claws and teeth,” Stiles stated again.

“Yes,” Peter nodded.

“You still love me though right?” Stiles asked. “Even though you’re a monster?”

“More than my own life,” Peter nodded.

“I still love you, even if you’re a monster.” Stiles nodded with him.

“I’m a werewolf Stiles,” Peter informed.

“Really?” Stiles asked excited.

“Yes,” Peter smiled at him, “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You didn’t,” Stiles shook his head. “Did that flower hurt you? I’m sorry.”

“Yeah that flower is very dangerous to my kind.”

Stiles looked at it again, and then picked it up. He carried it off to the edge of the yard again and threw it. He came back dusting off his hands. “There.”

Peter smiled at him.

“Does that mean Derek’s a werewolf too?” Stiles asked. “Is that his secret?”

Peter smiled, “Well aren’t you a smart boy.”

Stiles giggled and grinned.

Peter sobered, “But we can’t tell your Dad yet.”

Stiles frowned.

“I will tell him my darling boy, I promise. But for now it’ll be our little secret, okay?”

“Okay,” Stiles nodded.

**John sat down heavily on the coach.** It had been a long day. They had found a few leads earlier in the week, but they had dried up fast and John hadn’t a clue as to what to do next. He looked up as his little monster tumbled into the room. He was clad only in a towel, dirk firmly in arms as he ran across the room.

“Stiles,” Peter called, “You know better, it’s time to get ready for bed.”

Stiles just giggled, “I don’t feel like going to bed. I’m not tired.”

As Peter walked passed John to get to Stiles he heard him murmur, “You may not be, but I sure am.”

John chuckled.

Stiles tried to make a break for it. Peter was on him in a second, snapping him up. “Stiles, my darling boy, I do love you but it is time for bed.” He walked the boy into the hall and John heard the closing of a bedroom door. He chuckled.

It was nice having someone here to help with this, to be there for Stiles. Someone to pick up the slack, and even carry things that might not need it, but were appreciated all the same.

John felt the hand on his shoulder and looked up at Peter. He leaned down for a chaste kiss, before moving around the coach and sitting down.

“For a little boy that isn’t tired he fell asleep the instant his head hit the pillow.”

“I could never understand how he had the ability to just fall into sleep no matter the position, or place, once he let his guard down enough to do so.” John reached out and pulled Peter to him.

“You had a hard day,” it was a statement of fact.

“More than,” John answered gruffly.

Peter got off the coach and went over to the cabinet. He grabbed a couple of glasses and the scotch. He poured a generous amount into the glasses and walked back over to the John, straddling him. He handed off one of the glasses to him and sipped on his own. “Tell me about it John.”

“All of our leads ran dry,” John huffed. “We do know he had his name changed to Silbern a few years back, but we have no idea what his previous name was.”

“How do you figure?” Peter asked.

“He just showed up in the system, but beyond a few years ago he didn’t exist. His previous life was wiped.” John told him.

That means that if he was a hunter, he and his buddy had done something to bring attention to his name, to their family name. And in order to keep the rest of the family under wraps they had to become ghosts. The question is though, which family had they hailed from.

“Well let’s not think on that tonight,” Peter murmured against John’s lips.

“Oh and you had something better to think about?” John asked.

Peter hitched his hips up then down, rubbing so slowly against John. “As a matter of fact…” He downed the rest of his glass just as John did the same. He then brought his mouth down to John’s neck and pushed up against him. John put his glass down and then reached forward. His hands landing firmly on Peter’s ass, kneading and pulling groans from the man.

A scream sounded from upstairs. Peter was up and off John before the scream even finished. John followed only seconds later and as he reached the thrown open door to his son’s room he could hear Peter shushing him.

“It’s okay baby boy, it’ll all be just fine. I’m here, and your daddy is here. It’s all fine, your fine.” Peter rocked him back and forth.

Peter looked up to see John in the doorway. They knew what he was having a nightmare about. It usually wasn’t this early on in the night; more likely to happen nearing three in the morning. For the dreams to be appearing this early it must have been bad.

John growled under his breath. He was going to catch the son-of-a-bitch who did this to his son. And from the look in Peter’s eyes, he wouldn’t stand for anything less.

 


	9. The Nature of Peter and John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf, or the Characters.
> 
> Part 1-The Nature of Peter
> 
> “It is my nature to be kind, gentle, and loving. But know this: When it comes to matters of protecting my friends, my family, and my heart. Do not trifle with me. For I am also the most powerful and relentless creature you will ever know.”  
> ~Unknown
> 
> Part 2-The Nature of John
> 
> “The more one judges, the less one loves.”  
> ~Honoré de Balzac, Physiologie Du Mariage
> 
> “You take people, you put them on a journey, you give them peril, you find out who they really are.”  
> ~Joss Whedon

**Chapter 9: Part 1-The Nature of Peter**

**John listened to the radio,** and then slammed his fist into his desk. “Dammit!” They had him. They had him and he was able to throw them off his tail. For gods sakes the man was circling.

“Sherriff?” A deputy stuck his head in and looked inquisitive at the man standing ridged at his desk.

“It’s nothing,” John turned around to look at the map again. The man was circling… that’s right. The man was circling. He took a closer look at the map… and smack down in the middle was his house.

But Peter was at Talia’s today. John pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed him. Peter had to be at Talia’s.

Peter picked up on the second ring. “Hello.”

“Peter where are you?”

“Home,” John could hear the smile on his lips. “Stiles and I are making empanadas for dinner. We thought we’d try something new.”

“Peter, just stay right there. Don’t move.” John ordered.

“John? What is it?” Peter’s voice was tight.

“Just stay there Peter,” John ordered. Peter wasn’t supposed to be home. They weren’t supposed to be home. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Okay John,” John hung up after Peter’s confirmation. He had to get home, and then get his family to safety.

**Peter looked down at the phone in his hand.**

“Peter?” Peter turned to Stiles and smiled.

“Yes darling?”

“Are you okay,” Stiles cocked his head.

Peter smiled brightly, “I’m fine darling boy. Your dad just called he’s coming home early, I just wanted dinner to be a surprise, but this maybe better.”

Stiles smiled at him, “Sure.”

Peter lifted the little boy up onto the counter to help him scoop the meat mixture into the flat dough circles before they closed them.

There was a crash, and Peter turned to see a smoke bomb begin to fill the room. He made to turn back to Stiles, to grab him and run but he was an instant too late. A flash bomb landed in the middle of the kitchen.

“Stiles,” Peter yelled out as Stiles cried out in pain. Peter felt little hands encircle his neck, clutching tight. “I got you baby.” He murmured more for himself then for Stiles benefit. He couldn’t see, everything was so blurry.

The shots rang out harshly in the stillness of the afternoon. Peter cried out in pain as he blocked Stiles from the kitchen doorway, where he could see the fuzzy outline of the hunter.

Something pierced his chest and he looked down, his vision back, to see and arrow shaft. Another hit him in his shoulder, and then one embedded into his thigh. He growled, his claws coming out as Stiles whimpered behind him. No one would hurt his pup. No one.

The hunter walked forward as Peter dropped to one knee. Agony was shooting up his spine.

“Get the fuck away from him.” Peter roared as the man reached for Stiles.

It was when the man’s hand wrapped around Stiles’ arm that Peter looked up. John was standing in the doorway, leveling a gun at the man. Peter made to lunge backward and to use his body to hide Stiles when the man yelled out. Where his hand touched Stiles sparked and then burst into flames. Peter could see the boy’s eyes, they glowed with molten fire.

That was certainly new. Though Peter had read that if a spark had a traumatic event occur to them when they were young, they could develop a specialized powers. But fire? Why did it have to be fire? Though Stiles did have an affinity for it, even in the other time line, it was always his favorite tool to use.

A shot rang out and the hunter dropped dead. Blood splattered across Stiles face and Peter cooed at him as the boy began to shake. He maneuvered so that Stiles was at his chest, somehow fitting around the arrow shafts, as the boy began to shake.

“Shh, baby, I got you.” And then Peter looked up to see a gun level with his face.

“What the fuck are you?” John growled out, unknowingly imitating the creature he was leveling his gun at.

“J-John,” Peter whined. He let his features melt away. Realizing that he had no idea when he shifted. “It’s just me John. It’s always been just me.”

“That doesn’t answer my question!” Peter could see the man’s face turn purple.

“I’m a werewolf. I’m sorry John; I was going to tell you.” Peter cried out.

“And what? You expected me to just let a monster around my son? To let you stay? I trusted you.” The last part was said in a broken whisper. “You’re the reason that those men went after us aren’t you?” Peter flinched.

“Jo-hn,” Peter’s voice cracked. “Please, I didn’t… I love you.”

John turned away from him then.

Peter let out a sob. He could feel Stiles clutching to him still, the boy also sobbing.

“Stiles darling, I need you to go to your father,” Peter said quietly.

“No,” only Peter could hear the whispered word.

“I need you to,” Peter spoke just as soft. “I love you baby boy and I always will, but I’m not welcome anymore. Just know that if you ever need me I’ll be there.”

Stiles clung to him as he handed the boy over to the Sheriff, and limped out into the woods beyond the backyard. He let loose a heart wrenching howl, and heard his pups scream in answer as well as the howls of his pack.

It was all too much.

* * *

 

**Chapter 9: Part 2-The Nature of John**

**Peter lay curled up on his side.** He hadn’t moved for more than going to the bathroom and eating the minimal amount of food to survive going on four weeks now. And even then it took some doing for Talia to get him to even consider it. Lately they had taken to sending in Derek to do their dirty deeds, as the boy was the only one who could get him to eat with little fuss.

His gaze lingered on the open window as he let himself waste away. It is funny how even in this lifetime he is condemned to go through this catatonic state, slowly driving himself crazy.

And this time it was worse. He had done it to himself. But did he regret it?

No, he could never regret Stiles, and he could never regret… John.

He could feel a bubble rise in his chest, filled with hurt, and shame, and guilt.

He perked up as a breeze slithered into the room. He knew that scent. That was Stiles’ scent. Finding more energy than he had in weeks he rose from his bed and leapt from his window, landing lightly on his feet.

He looked a sight he knew. Wearing only a pair of dirty and stained plaid pajama bottoms, his hair tousled and unwashed, and his beard overgrown and wild. Not to mention the bags growing steadily bigger as the days gone by.

He headed south, knowing that his pup’s scent came from that direction. He had maybe gone on about ten minutes when he came across Stiles huddled in on himself, Derek hovering over him. Stiles was crying and Derek looked bewildered and unsure. If the situation hadn’t been as messed up as it was, he would have thought the scene to adorable for words.

“Darling,” Peter called softly crouching down.

Stiles’ head snapped up, and his body followed jerkily. Peter smiled; his darling boy was starting to grow into his twitching teenage limbs. Oh if he wasn’t the cutest little boy to ever exist, Stiles being at the edge twitching pre-teenhood, would be downright glorious.

“Papa,” Stiles surged forward, “Papa!” and then began to cry in earnest.

Peter looked to Derek, “Derek, sweets, I got it from here. Why don’t you go find your mother?”

Derek looked skeptical, but after a moment turned to leave.

Peter tried to get Stiles to tell him what was wrong but the only thing he got out of him was, “I’m a freak!” before he burst into sobs again.

And that was how Peter ended up walking through town with a sobbing little boy, unshaven and wearing very little. By the time he reached the Stilinski household, he could tell something was off. The door was cracked open, and the lights were dimed.

Looking down at Stiles who had fallen asleep a few minutes ago he walked up the walk and in through the door. On his way to Stiles room he caught sight of John on the couch, drunk off his ass and muttering to himself. Peter would get to him in a moment. He climbed the stairs carefully and entered Stiles room, laying the little boy down.

Stiles eyes opened a little to look up at him. “Papa?” he whispered. Peter melted. What had happened to cause such a change in his little man? The last time he had seen Stiles he was still Peter.

“Always darling,” Peter reassured.

“I miss you.” Stiles whispered.

“I miss you too baby,” Peter ran his hand through Stiles’ hair and wonders when the buzz cut came about.

“Will you ever come back?”

“I hope so darling.” Peter says, “Now why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

Stiles was quiet for a few seconds, “Promise Daddy won’t get in trouble?” And Peter’s hackles rose. What the fuck did John do? Peter inclined his head, knowing he couldn’t promise anything. “He sometimes drinks that brown colored drink that smells funny and tastes icky. But even when he starts to act funny he keeps drinking it. He told me it lowers his in-ha-ba-tions or something. But tonight he kept talking. He said he missed Momma, and then he said he missed you, and then he got really angry. He said I wasn’t normal. He shook me and asked why I could light things on fire. I accidently set the drapes on fire. I’m sorry, will you tell him I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a freak.” Stiles was crying again.

Peter shushed him, “You’re not a freak baby. Never a freak. You are a wonderfully miraculous little boy. So brave, and smart. There isn’t a more perfect little boy in the world. Why don’t you lay down darling, and everything will be better soon I promise okay?”

Peter watched as Stiles fell into a fitful slumber and made his way down stairs.

 **John found that having a half transformed werewolf at your throat had a very sobering effect.** Peter had picked him up off the couch by his neck and slammed him against the closest wall. Fangs were out and fierce, the man’s glowing blue eyes shown ferally in his face.

“You!” Peter growled out. “You will never make him feel like you did today ever again. He is a perfect little boy, with miraculous talents and far more beautiful then you could ever hope to come into contact with. The fact that he ran away to the woods where I found him sobbing is enough to tell me how atrocious your behavior is, but add to it that he feels like a freak because of misguided judgment on your part is unbelievably cruel on your part, whether inebriated or not.” Peter growled again, more ferocious then the last, “I love you John, and no matter your thoughts on me, you are never allowed to treat you son like this again. And John, mark my words if you so much as edge across this line again I will take our pup and you will never find us. He deserves the world, and if you won’t give it to him, I shall!”

And John watched, sliding down the wall, as Peter turned and ran from the house.

He couldn’t believe that even after the rejection he had given the man that he still loved him. John knew immediately that the separation had been as horrendous on the werewolf as it had been on himself, just by the look of him. Peter was never in anything less than immaculate condition.

And then John felt shame. Shame so deep and far reaching that he wanted to curl in on himself. But he didn’t. He got up and headed for the kitchen. First things first… coffee, and then he needed to make a call to Talia. He needed to understand this; he couldn’t deal with Peter not in his life. It was just too hard.

 **John didn’t know what to do.** And that was why he was here, standing on the Hale porch with a crying and heaving Stiles.

It had been a few weeks since Peter had come over and threatened him. Because John was under no illusions that it was anything but. He had put himself back together.

And then after talking to Talia and getting the information that he was sure Peter wouldn’t ever divulge to him—like how he was Peter’s mate, and Stiles was Peter’s pup, and there would be no one else for the man—he had come to terms with what they were, and what he was. He was a mate to a werewolf, and that meant forever. And John kinda liked that thought. He liked the idea of forever.

He had planned to do this in a better way. He was going to ask Peter out on a date, and romance him. He was going to win him back. But Stiles hadn’t had a moment of relief since John had rejected Peter. The boy’s nightmares had gotten worse, and during the day he has been having these fits.

John had taken him to the Doctor, and the man had said Stiles had been having panic attacks. Now John had been trying everything in his power to calm Stiles, but he was down to his last resorts. Either let Peter have a go, or medicate his son like the Doctor seemed to be pushing for. He’d rather not medicate Stiles if he could help it though.

Standing on the porch, he knew Peter could hear them. Talia had already told him that Peter would be home with Derek this evening.

“Peter,” John knew he sounded pathetic, but it must have worked, and Peter must have been just beyond the door because it swung open wide to a frantic Peter.

“What’s wrong?” Peter looked down at Stiles. “What’s happened?”

John clutched Stiles to him, “He’s been having panic attacks, and I just, Peter…”

Peter took a step forward and enveloped his mate and pup in a hug. Stiles immediately calmed, and John took a sigh of relief.

“Come inside,” Peter urged. He prodded them into the living room and set them up on the couch.

John looked up at the man. “Can we talk?”

Peter nodded, “Derek.” Peter called quietly. John was sure the boy couldn’t have heard, but never the less he walked into the room. “Derek will you stay here with Stiles?”

Derek nodded, “Yes.”

He walked over taking Stiles into his arms and Peter smiled as the boy began to shakily talk to the preteen.

The adults walked into the hall and Peter backed himself into a wall, his gaze downcast.

“I made a mistake,” John said. “I made a mistake and I didn’t take what we had into consideration. I didn’t think, and I didn’t ask questions. I hurt you and my son… our son. Is there… is there any way that you’d forgive me?”

Peter was not a weak man. He didn’t cry and he didn’t break. He was strong and stoic. He twisted and bent, and got revenge for transgressions against himself. But he could feel his eyes begin to tear up, and all it took was a bubble of hope filling his chest.

“John,” Peter’s voice barely audible, and then when strong arms wrapped around him, for the first time since they separated he sobbed. John’s litany of ‘I’m so sorry’ swirling around in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this took so long, but this chapter was especially hard to write, and honestly I don't think I did it justice.


	10. Developing Affliction of Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf, or the Characters.
> 
> “Trust is like a mirror, you can fix it if it's broken, but you can still see the crack in that mother fucker's reflection.”  
> ~ Lady Gaga

**John was standing in his kitchen,** backed up against his counter with a spoon being waved threateningly at his face… or rather his chest because his son was on the short side of being a child.

“You are messing it up!” Stiles yelled. “It has to be perfect Daddy, and you’re messing it up! Papa is going to be here any minute and dinner is messed up and he’ll see it and he’ll leave again! It has to be perfect!” Stiles waved the spoon then jerked it at his dad. Then he burst into tears.

John went down to his knees, “Oh, oh baby, it’ll be okay. Papa,” and boy was that weird to say, he cleared his throat, “Papa will love it no matter what. I will never take you away from him again and vice-versa. He will be your Papa for the rest of your life.” John wiped the tears from his son’s cheeks just as the doorbell rang.

Stiles ripped himself from John’s arms, and John had a horrible premonition that he will not be the favorite parent for a very long time… if ever again. Dammit.

It had been three weeks since Peter and John made up and the couple had been taking it slow. This was the first dinner that Stiles was being included in though. John and Peter had taken the boy separately, switching off every three days, while getting Talia or Melissa to babysit while they had their dates.

John hefted himself up off the floor as Peter, with a chattering Stiles on his hip, walked through the door.

“John,” Peter greeted, walking over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

John opened his arms and drew the man in, Stiles squished between them. “You look lovely tonight,” he whispered into Peter’s ear, kissing him on the cheek in return, feeling the blush beneath his lips. It made him smile.

“Ew, Da~ad no icky stuff,” Stiles whined, pushing at John, before he turned into Peter’s embrace and hugging his neck tightly.

His son was jealous. It was adorable.

Later that night when Peter came down from putting Stiles down, Peter came downstairs and draped himself over John. “John,” Peter asked.

“Hmm,” John hummed.

“Why was Stiles crying when I first got here?” Peter asked softly.

John had to fight the urge to freeze. Peter’s voice while soft and lilting was reminiscent to the voice he used as he held John to the wall a few weeks back. He made himself relax before answering. “He was a little upset because dinner prep wasn’t going the way he wanted.” John turned to Peter, “I don’t know if you noticed, but he gets a little OCD when he’s stressed. And he was stressed because he wanted everything to be perfect so you don’t leave again. I told him that you won’t, and that I won’t ever take him from you and vice versa.”

He understood better, the dynamic of their family… of their pack. He understood now that he had been thinking in human terms and while he maybe human, his mate and his son were not. Peter was a werewolf, he needs a pack. And while Talia’s was his original unit, Peter had broken from them the moment he met Stiles and John. It was instinctual for the man. His son was magical, and after discussing it with Talia, and later Deaton, he understood that Stiles’ spark had manifested and connected itself to his unit, his pack, and by tearing that apart like he had, there was a possibility that he could have broken Stiles. Broken him in a way no Father… no parent could ever comprehend or tolerate. It was no wonder that Peter had been on edge about letting John involvement remain as equal to his own. His instincts, while still loving John, were telling him to be wary around him, to protect Stiles. It would take time for that to be repaired.

John pulled the man over the back of the couch and on top of him when he saw Peter’s eyes misting. He knew from what Talia had told him that Peter’s emotions would be going haywire after the separation from his mate and cub. John just hugged the man closer and breathed him in. Losing his mate had affected him as well.

It was nearly an hour later before either of them spoke.

**“Peter,” John called from the other side of his desk.** They were eating lunch together because Robert, Talia’s mate, was taking the boys on a fieldtrip to a dairy farm. There was an ongoing bet on whether Stiles will somehow end up in a cattle pin, or Derek will. John bet on Stiles, he knew his son well enough to earn $50.00 off him. Peter bet that Stiles would somehow convince Derek to go into the cattle pin.

Peter looked up from his side salad from the Diner, and smiled at John.

“Peter will you move back in,” John put on his pleading face, “Please? Both me and Stiles, as it turns out, can’t live without you.”

Peter took a minute before answering, “Yes.” He then picked up his salad and fork and began to eat again.

John let out a sigh in relief and smiled.

Peter’s phone rang and he answered it. A grin spread across his face as he hung up again. Holding out his hand he said, “That was Robert, pay up.” John scowled, reaching for his wallet. He had thought Derek would have been smarter than that. Shaking his head he handed his mate $50.

He would certainly be speaking with the young beta. Derek needed to be able to stand up to Stiles… or at least look like he could stand up against him, for John’s wallet if nothing else.

**Peter sucked in a breath as his back hit the door of their bedroom.** It had been a beautiful night. Talia had taken Stiles, and unlike when Melissa took him, Stiles was okay to stay the whole night. Though, John was still iffy with letting his baby cuddle with Derek when they so obviously had a bond forming.

John sucked hard on Peter’s neck, and then sunk his teeth in harshly over the crease between Peter’s neck and shoulder. Peter’s knees buckled, and he whined in a way that only and animal could. John pressed harder into his body making lightening shoot up Peter’s spin.

John undid Peter’s pants and pushed them down, Peter stepping out of them, before tending to his own. He grabbed Peter’s ass aggressively, hauling him up. Peter wrapped his legs around John’s waist as John ran his finger along Peter’s entrance, groaning when he pulled them back and with them a plug.

John pulled his mouth from Peter’s and laid it against Peter’s shoulder. “You’re killing me baby.” Peter chuckled. “You prepped yourself, Jesus. Were you hoping to get lucky?”

“I’m always lucky,” Peter purred. “Now are you going to fuck me into the door, or are you going to let this opportunity go to waste?”

In answer John slid home, feeling Peter squeeze around him. John growled like an animal, sending shivers down Peter’s spin. Oh this was lovely.

John surged forward over and over again like it was the last time he’d have sex. Peter could hear the door groaning with the force of it, and couldn’t stop his claws from unsheathing.

When John felt Peter’s claws pierce his shoulders he became more aggressive, hitting Peter’s sweet spot over and over again. Peter could feel the knot in his navel pull tighter and the flash behind his eyes before exploding all over John and his nice violet shirt that was probably ruined anyway with how John had been pulling at it earlier. But John just kept going, stretching Peter sloppy before cuming harshly in him, clutching the man hard against him.

John stumbled to the bed and let Peter climb up into bed before falling in with a thump. Peter laughed, enjoying how John sprawled on top of him.

They drifted off soon after, soft snores sounding through the room, and contented smiles never leaving their faces.

**Peter was in the kitchen with Stiles when the phone rang.** Peter was prepping dinner and John was once again banned from the kitchen. Life was good.

John almost didn’t answer because he didn’t want a call from the office. It was his night off and he wanted to stay home with his boys. But it might be an emergency so he hefted himself off the couch and over to the wireless.

He answered and put the phone to his ear, “Hello, Stilinski residence.”

“John,” and John froze at the sound of his mother’s voice.

He cleared his throat, “Mother.”

“John we will be in town on Friday, dinner at 7, as usual.” His mother said. John nearly groaned. It was that time of year again, only weeks away from Stiles’ birthday.

“Angelo’s then?” John asked.

He could hear his mother sniff at the choice. She was always upset that Angelo’s—a family friendly restaurant—was the highest class place in town. “I suppose.”

“Mother I will be bringing my partner,” John proclaimed.

“Partner?” She asked.

“Peter and I have been together for a while now, it’s serious. If you can’t handle that then don’t come,” John said and then hung up. Well that was one hell of a way to come out to your parents.

“John honey?” John felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Peter there. “Are you okay? Your heartbeat sky rocketed.”

“That was my mother,” John told him. Peter raised an eyebrow. “I’m not really on good terms with my parents.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Peter asked.

John shook his head, and then nodded before taking a seat back on the couch. Peter took up the armrest.

“I never had a good relationship with them growing up. They expected things from me that I just wasn’t capable of. My dad is a CEO of a few chemical plants, and my mother was the typical trophy wife. They wished for me to grow up and become a doctor or lawyer and were disappointed when I followed my passion. We went for years not talking until Stiles was born, and even then I didn’t see them until Stiles turned 2. They wanted to have a dinner to celebrate, but not even on the week of his birth, only vaguely around the week he was born. They get him things like a college fund, or an inheritance he will get when he turns 18, which would be great if they didn’t make snide comments about how I can’t do that for him because of my career choice. They ignore him, and they don’t realize he’s as smart as they wanted me to be, I just don’t know what to do.” John rambled there at the end.

Peter ran his fingers through John’s hair. “So I’m guessing the dinner is Friday.”

John just nodded miserably. Peter got up and pulled John with him, “Well let’s not worry about that now, dinners ready.”

John smiled at him and let him lead the way to the dining room, hands still entwined.

**Peter smoothed his shirt down and smiled at his reflection.** John’s parents wouldn’t know what hit them. He turned to see John standing in the doorway. John smiled at him.

“Don’t you look lovely,” John complimented. He had found it oddly endearing when they first began to date that Peter preferred to be called lovely, or beautiful, rather than handsome. It had just slipped out one day. He had called the man lovely because that was what he had always thought of him, and Peter responded to it by making John a sandwich, kissing him thoroughly, and keeping Stiles occupied through the game that John had been particularly invested in. It’s not that Peter didn’t usually do those things for him. It was that Peter seemed more invested, even going as far as bringing him drinks, sitting with him after Stiles had been put to bed, and watching it with him. Something Peter never really did. He hated any sport not basketball. So John took note of the term of endearment, marking it down as a win, and reveling in the smile that graced the man’s face to whole afternoon.

As expected Peter preened. He made his way over to John smiling. “You look rather dashing as well mate of mine.” That was something that had changed since they began to date again. Peter had been calling John mate, or mate of mine, or just mine, and John didn’t think that Peter even realized it. When John had pointed it out after the first couple of times Peter called him as such, he had clammed up until John had told him it was okay. That he liked being claimed in such a way. And he had used the word claimed. That was another tidbit that he had picked up from Talia. That certain words had a certain effect on a werewolves—claimed, mate, mine, bitch, bite me—were a few for example.

John just grinned. “Stiles is standing by the door repeating what you told him like a mantra.” John laughed, “I think it will be the first time he makes it to the restaurant without making a mess of himself.”

It was Peter’s turn to grin now. They edged out of the room and around each other, all the while stripping clothes with their eyes from the other.

Approaching the front door, Peter looked at his little darling. Stiles was standing there in his white button up and black slacks, hands clasped behind his back mumbling, “Clean clothes means green toes.”

Stiles had had a certain fascination with Laura’s new acid green nail polish a few days back. He had wanted to paint his toes with them, but Peter and John had gave a resounding no in answer because they didn’t need or want to suffer the mess. But Peter had to bribe Stiles into his clothes, the boy not wanting anything to do with his Sunday best. There were rules of course. Peter would be the one to apply the polish for however long Stiles’ fascination held out, and Stiles wouldn’t try to find the bottle and apply it himself. But all in all clean clothes means green toes.

Peter ruffled Stiles hair and bent to pick the boy up. He kissed him and as a family made their way to the car.

John looked at his boys and smiled. Not even Claudia put him this at ease when he had to go see his parents.

They pulled up to the restaurant and they sedately got out of the car. They may have even beaten his parents there this time. They always liked to arrive thirty minutes early.

They didn’t beat them there, but only by a minute if what the hostess said was true. She showed them to a table off to the side with Stan and Mary Stilinski already seated. They rose when they saw his family approach, giving wane smiles.

Stan Stilinski was a tall man, with a round chin and grey hair that was steadily turning blonde as he aged. He was where John got his eyes from and the very same wrinkles lining his forehead, though he showed little kindness to any one person with the exception of his wife. He was a careful man, and cared more for politics and his family name then his actual family. Mary Stilinski was a soft woman. She was soft in the face, she was soft in her blonde hair, and she was soft in the way she held herself. But she was also reserved, and John knew that it was mainly for the way she had been raised. She had been breed to be a wife, and a mother, and she hadn’t wanted anything else for herself.

Mary hadn’t liked or appreciated Claudia. She hadn’t liked her spirit or the way Claudia refused to stop working. Hopefully it would be better with Peter, but John wasn’t holding his breath.

Oh course Peter, seeing John’s discomfort stepped forward. Most people didn’t realize it, or even recognize the gesture, but John had caught on. Peter had put himself between John and the threat. He angled his body so that Stiles was behind him. His legs were spread and ready to fight. Peter was protecting them with his body. “Hello you must be Stan and Mary.” Peter immediately used their first names, marking himself equal to or above them. That would throw them off. “I’ve heard so much about you.” The way he said it, and the way Stan and Mary stiffened, everyone knew. That wasn’t a platitude, it was forewarning of the knowledge of how exactly they treated John and Stiles and even Claudia in the past. A forewarning and a threat that it will not happen again. “My name is Peter Fallon Hale.” He held out his hand to Stan.

It took Stan a moment. “Fallon? I had an associate with the last name Fallon. He was a good business man.”

“My father is named Hank Fallon.” Peter offered a smile on his face that was sharp and biting. “Us kids took on our mother’s name as was tradition in our family. Ha was a rather advantageous man when he was alive.”

“That’s him. I hadn’t realized he had a family.” Stan offered gruffly.

“Well yes, I am the youngest, and I have two older sisters.” Peter offered. Stan hummed. Peter turned to John’s mother, “Mary it is a pleasure to meet you.” He took her offered hand and kissed it lightly.

“The pleasure is mine,” she smiled demurely at him.

John cleared his throat. “Why don’t we sit down?”

Peter gave him a smile just as Stiles piped in, “Can I sit between you and Papa?” He asked John.

Stan and Mary’s eyes widened a fraction.

John smiled and ruffled the boys head, “Of course you can pal.”

They set him up in the chair between them and John pulled out Peter’s seat, before taking his own. His parents seated across from them.

“He calls Peter papa?” Mary asked.

“Isn’t Stiles a little old to be carried everywhere?” Stan spoke sternly.

John answered his mother first. “Peter and myself are steady and partners. He is Stiles Papa.” He left no room for argument.

And as for Stan’s question, both parents were happy that Stiles seemed to be in his own little world. He had pulled out one of Derek’s books, and was reading. Where he had hidden it, neither John nor Peter knew, but they were glad for the distraction.

Peter tackled Stan’s question next. “Stiles was almost abducted a while back. John had been fortunate enough to turn around at the right moment and shot the man who was attempting to take him. As it turns out he was part of a team that liked to abduct children, and then kill the parents. After he was abducted his associate decided to finish the job, he broke into our home, he shot myself, and he tried to take Stiles again, before John got home in the nick of time to save us.” His answer was tight, and hard. “So Stiles is allowed to cling as he wishes for however long he wishes.”

Stan’s attention snapped to John, “Why were we not informed?”

John raised an eyebrow about to answer when the waiter appeared. “May I take your drink order?” She was perky with pink streaks in her hair, and she now had Stiles attention.

“You have pink hair,” Stiles said loudly. “Papa she has pink hair!” He was pointing now excited.

She smiled largely, “Yes I do buddy, would you like some pink lemonade?”

Stiles nodded fast, before shaking his head and looking at his dad in askance. John just smiled at him, giving him the go ahead. Stiles turned back to her nodding his head again. She laughed.

“And for the rest of you?”

“Oh, oh I know!” Stiles shouted. “Dad wants coffee and water, but it has to be decaf else Papa will be mad at him. Don’t bring sugar or cream he doesn’t like those. Papa will want iced tea, no lemon. Granddad will want that red wine, the expensive one, and Grandmom will have the same even though she doesn’t like it, she likes sweet lemonade like me.” Stiles grinned.

Again Stan and Mary looked surprised.

Peter smiled, “Stiles is very astute.” He nodded at the waitress. “That shall be fine for myself.”

John laughed, he hadn’t known that Stiles had catalogued those things over the years. “Yeah, me too.”

Stan grimaced and nodded his head.

Mary took a moment. She gazed at Stiles before looking at the waitress, “I shall have lemonade like my grandson.”

Stiles actually smiled at her for the first time and Mary felt a little flutter in her chest. A flutter she hadn’t felt since John had been but a baby.

The dinner went surprisingly well after that. Tension was still high with Stan, but Mary seemed to have relaxed. She had even discussed a few things with Stiles. Stiles had been really enthusiastic when the discussion turned to Derek and Scott.

After dessert, Marry and Stan had given Stiles a card and told John that they had placed $10,000 dollars into the college fund they had started years ago for the boy, and while Stan went to go get the car, Mary had leaned down and given Stiles a hug for the first time.

Stiles smiled the whole way home, and John couldn’t fight his own small grin that hung at the edge of his lips. He looked over at Peter. Peter made everything better.

**Peter had just came down from making sure Stiles was in bed asleep when he saw John.** His mate was on the phone.

Peter let his hearing pick up.

“Mom?” John asked.

It must have been the beginning of the conversation.

_“Hello John,” she said._

“Mom is there something you need? Did something happen to dad? We just saw you at the restaurant.”

_“No, no John. I had just called to say I had a lovely evening. Peter was an exceptional man. And…”_

“And?” John prompted.

_“And Stiles is a beautiful child. A little loud, but bright and kind. I’m sorry for not being more involved. I’m so sorry John.”_

John was quiet for a moment. Then he sighed. “Peter and I are throwing Stiles a birthday party. We are taking him to the zoo with his friends and at around noon we rented out a party room to celebrate. Melissa, Scott’s mother, and Peter’s family as well as some of the deputies are going to be there. I would like to extend an invitation. It’s next Saturday.”

Peter could hear a small hiccup from the other end of the line. It sounded like Mary was crying.

_“I would love to come John. You said Saturday at noon?”_

“At the Zoo just outside of Beacon county.”

_“I will be there John.”_

“Alright Mom, goodnight.”

_“Goodnight John.”_

John hung up and looked over his shoulder. He smiled at Peter, and Peter could do nothing but smile back.


	11. Peter Will Always Be Stiles’ Papa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the long delay in updating. I've had a rough couple of months. Which is no excuse, but there you go.

**Mary nervously clutched the phone.** She wasn’t sure about this, but she had to try. For many years she’s felt repressed. Repressed by her upbringing, expectations of her person and her family, and even more recently the lifestyle she had been given by her husband and how very sheltered it all seemed. But it wasn’t until someone had said something to her that she actually stopped and thought about it.

It had been but five months ago. She had been volunteering at the hospital, like she had been doing every Thursday afternoon going on twenty years now. A woman had come in with severe chest pains and no family in the area to be with her. Mary was relatively the same age and had been assigned as her buddy for an unforeseeably amount of time.

They didn’t hit it off right away, having nothing in common. But then Mary thought she struck gold mentioning that she had a grandson. This tidbit enamored her to the woman, but as she listened she began to realize her own failings.

This woman knew everything about her grandson: his favorite color, ice cream, fears, dreams, and wishes. She hadn’t known there was that much to know. She hadn’t even known most of those things about her own son. This revelation made her wholly uncomfortable.

She had eventually come clean to Joanne Winters about her shortcomings. Jo had just laughed, asked if Mary loved Stiles and told her it wasn’t too late, as long as love was involved. Jo had passed away shortly after that, her grandson arriving with his parents and crying over her like his world was ending. And while Jo comforted and reassured the boy, Mary could tell, she felt loved and at peace.

Mary wanted that.

So when she had saw Stiles next she had tried to ask more questions, to listen to him and learn about him. For example she now knew his favorite color was blue—but he secretly had a fascination with the color purple. That he was smart with a remarkable memory. That he loved to read, and that his best friends were Scott McCall who resembled a puppy dog and Derek Hale his Knight. She learned that he feared being taken away from his parents, who he loved, and that he could hold a grudge like nobody’s business. And now Mary could honestly say she loved her grandson because now she knew him—even if it was only a piece.

But now she had a dilemma. What to get her grandson for his birthday.

She dialed the number and prayed for this to go well.

“Hello, Stilinski-Hale residence,” Mary winced, this was not her son, but rather Peter Hale.

“Hello, this is Mary Stilinski; I was hoping to speak with my son.”

“I’m sorry Mary, but John is currently on a call. There was a break in at the high school.” Peter informed her. “May I take a message?”

“No,” Mary sighed. “I was just calling to ask if there was anything in particular Stiles would like for his birthday?”

“Oh, well I can help you with that. ‘The Hobbit’ on tape would be fantastic. He’s recently been trying to multitask, listening to a story while he completes a puzzle or game.” Peter offered.

“Thank you Peter,” she said smiling.

“You’re welcome Mary.”

She hung up and grabbed her purse, heading for the door. That had gone far better than she had expected.

**Stiles excitedly looked around the party room.** This morning had been the best morning he had had in a very long time. His Papa had woken him up to breakfast in bed, and his Dad had followed shortly after with a blueberry muffin decked out with a sparkler candle. And then all three of them ate on his bed, his parents listening to him as he told them about how much more grown up he felt.

They had gone to pick up both Derek and Scott then, heading for the zoo. He was surprised when he got there and Lydia Martin was standing there with her mom. He had known her when they went to school together before she had gotten into that special private school. She was so smart and pretty, and he liked her sparkly nail polish, and even told her so.

His Papa led them around the zoo, always asking where Stiles wanted to go next. The reptile house was so neat, and one of the snakes even rose up to his height it was so long. The visited the lions, and Scott giggled with him when it yawned real wide. The exotic birds were really pretty and he even got to go into a sort of bubble and watch them fly above him. But his favorite exhibit had to be the wolves. There was a large black one laying with a soft caramel colored one and they gazed at him and Derek.

Then when lunch time rolled around his Papa and Dad brought him to the private party house that looked like it belonged in the rainforest, or a jungle. It was so amazing, and there were so many people there to celebrate with him. They had even yelled surprise when he walked in.

**Mary walked into the little party room that John and Peter had rented for her grandson,** and tried her very best not to cringe. It was cramped and filled with a fair number of people, mainly adults. She hadn’t known Stiles had so many adult influences in his life. There were a few children as well.

Though the kids were stationed in the middle of the room giggling as a zookeeper was introducing them to what had to be a wolf. Who in their right minds would allow such a dangerous creature near the children? She held her tongue though as she spotted Peter standing protectively over Stiles. Stiles was stopping every so often to look back at the man with a grin that got wider every time.

“Mother,” a voice spoke behind her. Mary startled and turned.

“John,” she greeted meekly.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up,” John tells her.

She pauses for a moment and before she can stop herself, she says, “I’ve been in the parking lot for the last 30 minutes trying to decide if I should come in.”

“Then why did you?” His head is cocked as he asks.

“I have come to the realization recently that I do not know my grandson, or my son, that I have no real friends, and that I haven’t really lived much of a life. My friend passed away recently, my only friend, and I came to the realization that I have no idea of who I am.” She tells him.

“That isn’t my fault mother,” John tells her, “And it isn’t Stiles fault either.”

“I know.” She reassures him, “It’s my fault. I know where to place this blame on, and that is myself.”

John sighs. “We just finished cake, and were about to begin presents. I’m sure Stiles would love to open your gift to him.” He gestured at the present in her hand. He raises his arm then, turning slightly from her. “Peter, hun, I think we should get the presents going.” He calls out only slightly above his normal voice.

Mary turns to Peter, who is across the room, shouldn’t hear him. But he must have because he was turned back to them with a demure smile on his face. Peter nods, and leans down to Stiles, whispering something to him. Stiles screams ecstatically, earning more than one wince from the crowd of people.

Stiles grabs hold of a boy’s hand that must be his age, with floppy bangs and a crooked chin. Then he wraps his arm around another boy’s. This one was taller, older, and had a scowl on his brow. Then her grandson is zooming towards them, Peter walking confidently behind them in a calm manor that she has never seen associated with a boy as rambunctious as Stiles.

She remembered even Claudia had a tough time keeping up with him. She always looked like she was run ragged. In fact the last time she had seen Stiles, it was the best he had ever looked. The nice clothes he was in weren’t covered head to toe in stains. His hair was nicely done, and he was able to sit still through the whole dinner. It was a remarkable improvement.

Stiles is upon them in only half a minute and as Mary looked down at him, she couldn’t help but be intimidated. “Grandmama lookie here. This is my bestest friend Scott.” He presents the floppy haired boy. “And this is my Derek.” This is directed at the boy with a permanent scowl. She half expects the boy to object to this, but no, the scowl disappears, and he seems calmer.

“It’s very nice to meet you both.” She smiles at them.

“Is that present for me?” Stiles asks.

“Yes dear,” she says handing them to him. He takes them gleefully, he makes to move away but then it’s like he thinks better of it.

He turns to Peter, “Is it time to open presents yet?”

“Why yes birthday boy, it is time to open them.” Stiles squeals again and runs for the present table. Mary watches as he opens her gift first, presenting the audio book and 350 piece puzzle. He shows them first to Derek for inspection then Peter before turning to Scott.

It’s an hour later, the small group of kids are playing on the ground with Stiles’ new toys and the adults are mainly mingling. Mary is watching for the most part. Not really comfortable enough in her own skin to mingle as she would usually. She notices that a great majority of the adults here are part of Peter’s family, and that they all treat Stiles and John as one of their own. It was like the majority of the room acted as a unit. Of course there were the deputies that worked under John, who revolved around one another. But other than that it was Ms. McCall, Scott’s mom, and the Hales. All of them. Even the distant cousins. And they were all revolving around Peter and Talia. Talia being Peter’s older sister. It was strange.

She also noticed how it wasn’t John who Stiles turned to first. It wasn’t John he ran to first. It wasn’t John who he needed reassurance from. He still sought it out from John… but never first.

“Mother,” she turned to see John standing behind her. “Are you having a good time?”

Surprisingly she was. So she answered him truthfully, “Yes.”

“That’s good.” John mumbled. “What were you thinking about that had you so wrapped in your head?”

“I was just thinking about how close Stiles is to Peter.” She smiled at him.

“You think it’s weird,” John told her matter-a-factly. She didn’t answer confirming his suspicion. “Peter is Stiles’ Papa. I made a mistake a while back. It hurt Stiles, and he couldn’t trust me for a while. Peter was his rock and I tore them apart. I am still making up for my mistake to Peter, and it will take a while for me to regain Stiles’ trust. But one thing became very apparent due to my mistake. Peter is Stiles’ Papa; he will always be his Papa. If something were to happen between me and my m—partner again, then Peter would still be Stiles’ other parent. More so than Claudia ever was. That was actually a present we gave Stiles, Peter has full rights over Stiles now, and it’s helped.”

Mary just nodded her head. She didn’t really understand, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t in the future. If anything though, it just meant that Peter wasn’t a fling, he would always be in Stiles’ and John’s life.

**Peter walked into the office,** the Tupperware that held a late dinner in hand. John had been having to work late the last few days and go in early, meaning Peter had only saw him out the door and felt him crawl into bed. Peter couldn’t let that stand another night. So he dropped a sleeping Stiles off with Talia and drove down to the station with leftovers from dinner.

Janet was at the front desk as he smiled at her.

“Hey Peter,” she greeted.

“Janet,” he nodded, “You look lovely this evening.” And she did, dressed in a silk blue dress and her hair in a stylish up-do. “Any special plans for the evening?”

“Yes, it’s my seventh anniversary with my husband tonight; I was just wrapping up to go meet him at the restaurant.” She answered.

Peter smiled at her, “Ah, isn’t that lovely.”

“You headed back to the Sheriff?” She asked kindly as she got up and grabbed her purse.

“Yes, he missed dinner once again, and I can’t have that now, can I?” Peter charmed her.

She giggled. “No, I suppose you can’t.”

“Where are the other deputies,” Peter asked.

“Everyone on duty is out on patrol; they shouldn’t be back for another hour.”

Peter’s grin widened if possible.

“Well I will see you on Monday then,” Janet asked, “You are still coming in to update the system right?”

“Yes that was the plan,” Peter said, “It’s the only day my sister can take Stiles for more than an hour.”

“Alright then, see you,” Janet waved him off as she exited the building.

Peter turned then and walked past the front desk. He made his way into the hallway and to John’s door. He saw that the door was cracked open and John was hunched over a file on his desk.

“Hey there working man,” Peter greeted.

John’s head snapped up and a smile spread across his face. Peter turned closing the door and the blinds. John lifted an eyebrow at the action. “Hey back, is that my dinner?” John asked.

“Mmhmm, sure is.” Peter said, placing it down in the chair and walking around the desk. “But I thought you may want a taste of dessert before dinner?”

John grinned, Peter climbing into his lap. “Dessert huh? Won’t that spoil my appetite?”

“Oh most definitely,” Peter purred. John surged into a kiss, taking Peter’s breath away. When he felt John shift forward and a clatter sounded, it still surprised Peter when he was lifted bodily onto the now trashed desk. He could feel the heat of John pressed against him and couldn’t hold back the groan. John was an animal when you got him revved up, and Peter was very good at that.


End file.
